


Falling Petals in Sun-Warmed Hands

by Lazchan



Series: Falling Petals [1]
Category: Yuri!!! on Ice (Anime)
Genre: Aged-Down Katsuki Yuuri, Aged-Up Yuri Plisetsky, De-Aged Katsuki Yuuri, Gen, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-02-17
Updated: 2017-07-28
Packaged: 2018-09-25 05:38:18
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 8
Words: 47,259
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9804818
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lazchan/pseuds/Lazchan
Summary: In between the Four Continents competition and Worlds, Yuuri and Yuri catch up during the downtime between competitions. Yuri visits Yuuri in Hasetsu, as the sakura trees are in bloom.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * For [OneKerfuffle](https://archiveofourown.org/users/OneKerfuffle/gifts), [axona](https://archiveofourown.org/users/axona/gifts).



The station was quiet in the late morning hours and Yuuri relaxed against one of the benches, waiting for Yuri’s train to come in. There were a few other people in the waiting area and they waved to Yuuri.

“Weren’t you just here?” One of the workers teased. “I could have sworn I saw you coming in on the first train, Katsuki-san.” They all knew him and Yuuri was positive this was one of the station workers that had insisted in practically wallpapering the station with his figure skater posters years ago. Thankfully, they were more tasteful now, even if the poster was bigger now and showed him from his first Grand Prix Final, posing with the silver medal. “You’re not leaving us already, are you?”

He laughed and shook his head. “No, no-- I’m meeting a friend that’s coming on the train. I would have met him at the airport, but he insisted that he made it to town fine the last time and didn’t need me making a useless trip all the way to Fukuoka to battle the airport crowds.”

“That and you’d have all your fans trying to greet you,” she said wisely and Yuuri flushed. It had been just as she had said; when he had gotten off the plane, jet-lagged and sleepy, he hadn’t noticed the group of fans that had gathered, eager to see him. He wasn’t even sure how they  _ knew _ he was coming home, except he had an idea that Phichit’s mention of “see you soon, Yuuri” had something to do with it.

_ How many followers does he have and why did they think to look at me when he made that post? _ He wondered idly, staring down at his phone and flipping through the posts he had missed; no word had come of Yuri; so either he had come better disguised or prepared for any crowds, or “Yuri’s Angels” hadn’t clued in on that he was visiting Japan again.  _ And thank goodness for that. I don’t think Yuri would appreciate hordes of girls descending upon the town to take pictures of him and nobody in town would thank me, either. _

“Well, you know that no one here will fuss at you,” she said, patting his shoulder as she went back to the platform, the ticking clock and rush of wind indicating the train was coming in. Yuuri stood a little nervously; unsure of what to expect. Yuri had said he’d be on this train and that was all he knew. They had last seen each other at the last Grand Prix, but then they had European National and then Four Continents, different competitions spanning different venues, none of them crossing. Yuuri hadn’t actually seen Yuri in person since the last Grand Prix, only talking through video chat and phone calls.

They were both taking some downtime and Yuuri had been pleased that Yuri had wanted to come to Japan instead of staying at his home rink, to relax with Yuuri and skate a little before hey both went to Worlds.  _ This will be our first time directly competing against each other since the Grand Prix. _

There were only a few passengers that got off and Yuri was distinctive from the others, for more than just his tall, thin figure and his pale blonde hair. Compared to the others more sober colors, his brightly colored Russian team jacket was a stark contrast. Yuri was looking around, shading his eyes from the lights in the station and then he spotted Yuuri and he grinned widely.

“Wow, Yuuri,” he drawled. “You didn’t have to put up all the impressive posters just to make sure that I knew I was in the right place. Glad to see there’s less than before.” HIs mocking grin was in full force and Yuuri huffed out an exasperated laugh and stepped forward. Yuri hadn’t changed that much; seeing his taller size in person was more of a shock, but he had known for over a year that Yuri had grown out of his androgynous, teenage body and into something more mature. There had been enough photos, enough interviews and it wasn’t like Yuuri had ignored any of the competitions that Yuri had been in.

Yuri-" Yuuri bit off the last of the syllable that wanted to come out for Yuri's name; with him being back in Japan again, he wanted to fall back into old habits, even if Yurio didn't seem appropriate anymore for the older teen.It was a nickname for a child, but Yuri was anything but.

The grin faded a little bit as Yuri scowled, leaning forward, eyes narrowing in on Yuuri's nervous smile. "Were you just about to call me  _ Yurio _ ?" he demanded. The look was menacing, but there was a flicker of amusement in his eyes that led credence to the act and that Yuri was enjoying teasing Yuuri.

"No! No, of course not—" Yuuri fumbled with his shirt, looking like he wanted to hide his flushed cheeks underneath the fabric.. "I didn't call you Yurio," he babbled. "That was a nickname that my sister gave you and…” he coughed. “I don’t think I’ll get confused with saying your name, even if it’s the same as mine,” he finished lamely. “Other people did, but I know that we can  _ both _ manage to tell the difference, without using nicknames.” He winced a little, waiting for it; there was that one that would probably haunt him until he died and Yuri loved to use it.

"Did you hit your head or something, katsudon?" Yuri snorted, ruffling his hair and looking amused. "You haven’t stuttered so much in ages. Did the thought of my name strain you that badly?" he grinned down at Yuuri.

_ There we go.  _ Yuuri rolled his eyes. "If I can't call you Yurio, don't call me katsudon," he huffed. "That nickname should be dead and gone as well. You're the only one that calls me that anymore. Everyone else gave up that insult long ago."

"Who said it was an insult?" Yuri asked, smirking as a startled look chased away the annoyance that had been on Yuuri's face. "If I'm the only one that's calling you that, shouldn't it be a hint?" He looked away, ears faintly pink and hunched in on his jacket when Yuuri just laughed.

"Alright, alright—" Yuuri held up his hands. "Maybe it's more than an insult with you now," he allowed. He took one of Yuri's bags, letting the other pull along his suitcase, which was still gaudy and leopard spotted and uniquely  _ Yuri _ .

“Glad to see you’ve noticed,” Yuri patted his head and then he paused in front of the poster, lips twitching faintly. “Wow, Yuuri. Did you put this up yourself or does the town really like you that much?”

Yuuri’s face blanched and he stood in front of it, as if he could block the image from Yuri, even if he had already seen it. It ended up looking like he was posing as he held his arms out in a futile attempt to hide it. “... it’s a small town,” he muttered. “And they’re really proud of what I’ve done. They always have been.”

“You’re the one that  _ Japan _ looks to for figure skating, idiot. Of course your town would be proud of you.” Yuri shook his head over Yuuri’s half-embarrassed, mumbled excuse. “At least they didn’t line the station with posters this time.”

“I’m surprised you didn’t rip them all down when you first came here,” Yuuri shot back. “I half-expected to see a bonfire made from them,” he gave Yuri a wide, knowing smile. “Although there was one suspiciously missing after you went home--”

He was rewarded with a flush that covered Yuri’s entire face. “I-- that could have been anybody that took one of your posters,” Yuri spat out, hands tightening around the handle of his suitcase. “I-- why would I have wanted- I mean-- I didn’t even …”

“You didn’t even like me then,” Yuuri said with a grin. “Wow, Yuri-- did you actually take care of it? You could have just said you used it as dart board and I would have believed you.” When Yuri opened his mouth, probably to say just that, Yuuri’s grin grew even wider. “Too late now,” he half-sang. “You actually didn’t hate me back then. I’m so touched.”

“You already knew that,” Yuri muttered, staring at a point away from the poster and Yuuri. “Let’s get out of here before I have more people staring at me and asking if I’m here to visit you.”

Yuuri relented, still smiling faintly. He hadn’t really known at the time and sometimes he still doubted. It was nice to hear Yuri admit it out loud, though. He decided a change of subject might be prudent. "Mom's got a room set up for you and I think you'll like it better than the storage room you had last time," he grinned.

"I better not be in a storage room this time," Yuri grumbled. The two of them garnered curious looks as they walked along from the station, some of them recognizing Yuri from his last visit, but he had changed so much in the intervening years that most only recognized him from the skating programs the whole town turned into watch to cheer on Yuuri. "Especially with Viktor's stuff all moved out."

Yuuri winced a little at that and nodded, putting his free hand in his pocket. "Yeah, the banquet room is free again, but we got you one of the regular rooms. It's still pretty nice, though," he said softly, voice now tinged with uncertainty, but still a flash of teasing was there. "It even has a window this time so that you don't feel like you're in a closet."

“Well, it was sort of my fault I was in that closet,” Yuri was able to acknowledge that now. “I just showed up out of nowhere…”

“Yeah, this time, you gave a whole week’s notice.” Yuuri laughed. “So Mom was able to get a room ready for you. You really made an impression on her and she was really happy to hear that you were coming for a visit.” He hesitated. “If you’d like, you can still have the private bathing room,” he said slowly. “I can make sure no one else is around.”

Yuri shrugged at that, brushing off a few of the flowers petals that landed on his shoulder. The air was filled with them and they dusted the corners of the road and gathered any available surface, including passerbys. Yuri noted a few people with umbrellas, ducking the rain of flowers as they would water. Most people drifted through them, hands held out and warm smiles on their faces as they gathered flowers in their hands. “As long as there aren’t like… a ton of people,” he shrugged, hunching into his coat, “then it’ll be fine.”

Yuuri gave him a curious look. “You don’t have to force yourself, you know,” he said gently. “We didn’t just create a private bath for you. There are other people that don’t like the idea of the onsen and are very shy.” He grinned. “All of them are foreigners, of course, but that doesn’t stop them from wanting a private area--”

“I said it was fine,” Yuri muttered, ears more red than before. “It’s not like I’m still a kid. If you can arrange it so that it’s not the entire inn soaking their wrinkly, old bodies in the water when I am, I want to try the actual hot springs. There's more of me than before.”

“I’ll guard the door,” Yuuri kept his voice as solemn as possible, but his lips kicked up into a wide grin and he ducked at the bag aimed at his head, both of them laughing the entire way back to the inn.

~

“Oh, look, it’s not so little Yurio,” Mari was the one to greet them at the door, leaning against the doorframe, cigarette smoke curling lazily in the air. “Here to compete with our Yuuri again? I don’t think the town recovered yet from the one three years ago.”

Yuuri laughed at the annoyed look that crossed Yuri’s face. “That wasn’t my idea in the first place,” he snapped. “Those crazy girls organized the whole thing. I was just trying to see…” he stopped, hand clenching tighter around the handle of his suitcase.

Mari’s smirk was lazy as she leaned closer. “Yeah? What were you trying to see, kid?” she asked, voice deeply amused. She wasn’t fooled at all by his lack of words and hadn’t been fooled years ago when Yuri had claimed a part of the inn as his own and wouldn’t move far from Yuuri. He had yelled about Viktor needing to come home, but whenever she saw the other, he had been near Yuuri the entire time, not the erstwhile coach.

“None of your business,” Yuri snapped, ears red again and Mari just laughed, moving to the side to let them in, brushing off the petals that had gathered on their clothing. She leaned down, straightening the shoes that Yuri kicked off, lining them up next to Yuuri’s.

She was all brisk and businesslike the moment after the tease, leaving Yuri suspicious after the abrupt change in mood. Yuuri knew his sister all too well and just shook his head, sharing a faint smile with her. “Don’t tease him when he’s too tired from his trip to defend himself,” he mock-scolded. “Wait until at least a day and he’s used to us again.” He switched languages abruptly. “Or do it in Japanese so he can’t understand you.”

Yuri gave him the suspicious look now, poking at his cheek and glaring. “Don’t pull that with me,” he said. “Speak English or Russian if you’re going to insult me.”

“But isn’t learning insults in a new language more fun?” Yuuri’s voice was smooth and Mari hid a smile behind her hand and then looked over her shoulder. “Give me your coats and leave your bags here for now. We’ll take them to your room in a bit.I think Mom has food ready for everyone.” She pushed them into the main room, low tables empty of people; the large tv playing a news program in quiet Japanese.

Hiroko was there, her hands filled with a tray of food and she hastily put it down before she practically bounced in front of Yuri and her son. “You finally came back to visit!” she beamed. “It’s been so long, Yuri.” She didn’t use the diminutive that Mari had bestowed upon him either. She had realized, as well as Yuri, that such a nickname didn’t suit him so well anymore. “You’ve grown so tall--”

Yuri shifted uncertainly, unsure of how to handle such a warm reception. Hiroko looked genuinely pleased to see him and he wondered why he felt vaguely guilty for not coming back before. He felt like an errant son. She continued, as if she either guessed his train of thought or didn’t care. “Of course, Yuuri waited five years before coming home,” she patted Yuuri’s shoulder fondly.

“I… I’m sorry?” he asked blankly. The house hadn’t changed much since his last visit and he found his gaze wandering around the room, so that he wouldn’t meet her eyes. She was observant in her own way and it was overwhelming. He spotted a small corner that had a number of plaques and trophies on it. Hiroko saw where his attention had strayed to and her smile grew even wider and she towed him toward them, taking his wrist in a familiar way.

“Oh, it’s fine,” she laughed, reassuring him as they walked across the small room and it took Yuuri a moment longer to see where they were going and he practically leapt across the space, waving his hands. “Oh, I forgot that we never showed either of you boys this last time….we keep updating this, even if Yuuri gets all embarrassed.” She flashed a smile at her son. “Like now,” she laughed.

“Mom-- no, you don’t have to show Yuri those, it’s fine--” his cheeks were burning and Yuri turned, a slow smirk on his face.

“Now I want to see what these are, more than ever.” He didn’t resist as they stopped in front of the tall shelf, filled with certificates in sweeping, calligraphy, small trophies and medals. Behind them, Mari sighed and began putting out the plates and pouring the drinks, before patting Yuuri on the back.

“Mom’s still too proud of all of those to not show them off,” she said dryly. “Especially not after the medals you added to the collection.” There was a small, contented smile on her face. “Don’t you want to show off your accomplishments, little brother?”

“Not when they come with pictures,” Yuuri whispered, mortified. Yuri hadn’t cared enough to notice them last time and Viktor had wanted to focus on his current accomplishments and not his past, so it had never come up before. He could have only imagined the mocking he would have gotten back when Yuri was fifteen and angry at the world.

“Hey, there are a lot of these,” Yuri’s voice broke through his thoughts and he looked over to see Yuri staring at him directly. “Come over here and explain why you didn’t think you were good when you had all of  _ these _ ,” he demanded.

Yuuri stared at him; confused as to why Yuri was making a fuss over awards from local competitions. They were from before he even went professional; they weren’t even ISU certificates or trophies; it had taken him awhile to even get a coach that wasn’t Minako or Takeshi’s parents. Yuri had been the one to win gold in Juniors and in his first year of Seniors. “They’re just local stuff from when I was a kid,” he said, brow furrowed. “Some of them aren’t even skating ones, they’re from the ballet competitions I went to.”

“There’s a silver from Juniors in here,” Yuri pointed out, “and a bunch of stuff that looks really fancy from other skating…”

“How’d you know it was skating if you can’t read it?” Mari asked from her spot. It was too crowded by the trophies and she knew them all by heart. She had been the first one to put up the certificate from his first ballet recital, had taken the first pictures from the wings.

“There are skates on the paper,” Yuri’s tone was dry. “I’m not entirely oblivious.” He looked at the pictures of Yuuri-as-a-kid, in warm up clothes, with a much young Mari helping support his form. He leaned closer, smiling faintly. “I almost forgot that you did dancing before really ice skating, didn’t you?’” he asked. That had come up between them; conversations and tidbits of information dropped over the years, but Yuuri had never gone into excessive detail about himself.

“He danced almost exclusively with Minako until he was about twelve,” Hiroko pressed a hand to her cheek, looking fondly at the eleven year-old Yuuri, taken as he stood in a arabesque. He couldn’t have been aware someone was taking the photo, because his expression was open and happy, looking toward something in the distance. “He skated off and on with Yuuko and Takeshi, but he didn’t commit to competitive skating until he was twelve. Minako-sempai was disappointed, but she saw how much Yuuri loved it.”

Yuuri didn’t think his face could get any warmer as he looked away. He had gotten fully into figure skating competitively because of Viktor; before then, he didn’t realize that people could dance and fly on the ice like he had across the stage. “I still danced, just… not as much,” he muttered.

“It says here you won a Grand Prix,” Yuri’s expression was full of mischief. “At the age of thirteen, no less. If I had known you were winning a Grand Prix trophy this young, I would have tried harder to beat you.”

“It wasn’t with figure skating!” Yuuri protested, but smiled a little at the memory. Minako had been so proud and disappointed at the same time when he decided to focus on skating instead. It had been his first competition in the Juniors category and the last major dance competition. After that, Minako had focused on teaching him moves suited more for the rink and he had spent hours on end, studying how figure skaters moved, devouring video after video.

“You still were talented,” Yuri snorted. “Now it looks like it took you longer to win anything with figure skating,” the teasing was back in full force. “So it looks like my superior skating still stands.”

“No Grand Prix gold medals for me at the age of fifteen,” Yuuri agreed, rolling his eyes. “That distinction belongs to you alone, Yuri… and you deserved every bit of it.” Yuri at fifteen had been extraordinary, talented and driven. Yuri now was breathtaking in his movements and had legions of fans that enjoyed him for more than just his skating.

Hiroko laughed behind her hands as Yuri struggled between preening at the well-deserved praise and blushing for Yuuri being so candid about it. “Come on and sit down. You must be hungry after that long flight,” she fussed. “We can talk more about what Yuuri did later on. Go on and eat before it gets cold.”

It wasn’t the katsudon that Yuri had almost expected, but rice and fish and miso soup, filling enough so that his stomach didn’t complain and nothing too heavy after such a long flight. It wasn’t as if were bland, either-- Yuri had to keep from shoveling it in.

Hiroko smiled over at them, watching them sitting side by side, Yuri awkwardly using the chopsticks and Yuuri absently correcting him with a tilt of his hand. “You’re doing so well,” she praised. “Last time, all you would use was a fork. Did Yuuri teach you?”

Yuuri nodded and smiled, eating his food at a slower pace. “Every time we had a competition that crossed, we would either go out to eat or make something at home. There are certain foods that are a lot easier to eat with chopsticks.”

“I figured it was rude to eat the sushi with my hands,” Yuri muttered, stacking the plates on top of each other, mimicking the setup that Mari and Hiroko did with their dishes. “Using a fork just made me looks stupid.” He grinned at Yuuri. “I still have those chopsticks you gave me.”

“The training ones?” Yuuri asked in disbelief. “Those are years old! You don’t even need them anymore.”

“They looked cool,” Yuri insisted. “I don’t even know where you got chopsticks with tigers on them.” 

Mari snickered into her hand. “Oh, I’m sure I know,” she grinned. “But I’ll leave that to be Yuuri’s little secret.” She stretched out a hand, ruffling his hair. “I’m glad you kept up the practice,” she said. “I’m sure Yuuri was glad to see you trying so hard.” She ignored Yuuri’s protest and continued. “You know, you came at the best time, really. There’s always stalls set up for the street festival. It’s the perfect time to try a lot of different foods. I’m sure that Yuuri will be happy to show you.”

Yuuri nodded, they had passed by some of the bare-bones of the booths on their way from the station. He loved being home when the sakura trees were in bloom. His smile was shy and pleased to be able to share something so unique with Yuri. It wasn’t like he could replicate it in the cold spring of St. Petersburg or any other country. “I think you noticed that the flowers are  _ everywhere _ and it’s one of my favorite festivals.” 

Hiroko clasped her hands together. “Oh, Yuuri-- you’ll have to make sure that Yuri tries the sakura mochi when you take him out.” She smiled over at Yuri. “It’s tradition during blossom season and there are a lot of desserts and dishes that have the sakura flowers in them.”

“... you eat flowers?” Yuri’s expression switched from interest to complete disbelief, as if she was pulling his leg.

“It’s tradition, Yura,” Yuuri didn’t notice the diminutive that came out of his mouth, but the others in the room did and Mari had to cover a sudden cough at the bright blush that had covered Yuri’s cheeks. Yuuri wasn’t even looking at him, bent over and gathering the rest of the dishware and heading to the kitchen as he talked. “It’s better than it sounds, I promise,” he laughed.

“Huh,” Yuri didn’t look convinced and he stood up slowly, covering a yawn with one hand. Hiroko caught him and wrinkled her nose. “And here we are, talking about festivals and activities and wearing you out when I’m sure you just want to rest from your trip.” She grabbed the dishes from a surprised Yuuri and pointed towards the rooms.

“You go and take care of your guest,” she scolded. “Take his stuff to his room, make sure he has everything he needs and then you go rest yourself,” she ordered. “You got in early this morning yourself and I know you haven’t slept yet. Now go,” she said, expression as fierce as she could make it, but she was laughing at the same time.

Yuuri blinked with hands being filled a moment later with one of Yuri’s bags and Mari smirking at him. “You know where we set him up,” she ordered. “Go and let the boy rest.” She had the suitcase, while Yuri wasn’t paying attention to either of them, distracted by the trophies again and his hands reaching out to touch one of them, nearly dislodging the entire set up. He jumped back, startled and embarrassed and Mari didn’t hide her laugh this time. “Before he climbs the shelves to knock down more interesting things.”

Yuri heard her and opened his mouth to reply, but Yuuri was already dragging him away down the hallway, bag in one hand and suitcase in the other and it wasn’t that big of an inn to make it that far of a trip to his room.

He deposited Yuri’s bags in the corner of the room and then pulled out the futon that was still folded up in the closet. Yuuri set it out, smoothing out the sheets, giving everything a critical once-over, stemming from both personal pride and long habit of setting up rooms for guests when he was a child. There was a small chest to the side that held sleeping yukata and another blanket to lay on top of the futon in case it got cold and a small space heater in opposite corner of Yuri’s bags. It was a simple room, but the window let in plenty of sunlight and the whole place smelled clean and open and it was more open than the room he had been in before.

Once everything was set up, Yuuri waited outside the room, feeling awkward again as Yuri fell backwards onto the soft futon. “I guess it was a long flight,” he said slowly. “I always had trouble sleeping, no matter how many times I flew.” He shouldn’t feel so awkward around Yuri; they had become friends over the years and the Yuri’s angry rivalry of that first year had changed into something friendlier, more playful with the taunts and teases. Both of them not holding back, either with teasing or skating.

Yuri made a face and nodded, sprawled over more of the blankets than should be possible for a human being. He covered his mouth to stifle the yawn. “Sorry, katsudon--” he sounded truly apologetic.

“Don’t worry,” Yuuri laughed. “It’s not like I expected us to skate or anything today,” he shuffled his foot. “I know we both promised our coaches we would keep it simple and all, but you’re probably wanting a little more of a break from it or something anyway; it’s been a pretty intense season, after all--” It had been for both of them, always placing on the podium and getting nothing less than a silver. 

“And you probably set up a bed on the ice,” Yuri snickered, patting the spot next to him. When Yuuri opened his mouth to protest, Yuri shook his phone at him. “Don't even try and lie to me. Yuuko told me you went straight to the rink to skate as soon as you got home, even though it was four in the morning.”

“It helped me relax after the long flight,” Yuuri muttered. It was habit for him to go to the Ice Castle when he got home. “I almost forgot that you keep in touch with Yuuko. Didn't realize she was your  _ spy _ ,” he said with a grin.

“We've been friends since I was fifteen,” Yuri snorted. “Of course she was going to let me know when our mutual idiot was being an idiot.” His eyes were sharp as he looked Yuuri over. “You flew just as far, even if you did come back earlier, and I know you that you didn't sleep yet,” he said. “Come on and rest for once.” His grin was lazy and eyes watchful as he indicated the spot to him.

“How can I fit?” Yuuri quipped, trying to hide his shock at the invitation; glad that he had practice in hiding his blushes from all the suggestive teasing that Viktor had done during that first year. It wasn’t as if they hadn’t shared space before, but somehow, in the small room, with Yuri smirking up at him, it suddenly seemed much more private. “You take up more space than your average cat. I’d probably roll over on you and you’d hiss and claw me.”

“At least if I kick you out of bed, all you’ll do is roll over on the mats,” Yuri smirked. “Come on, Yuuri,” he said, voice coaxing. “It won't hurt to nap for a few hours and then we can do that flower eating festival you were talking about.”

“It's not about  _ eating  _ flowers, it's about watching them,” Yuuri laughed again and unwillingly pulled closer to Yuri, even if it was just by virtue of the teasing. “During the day they have picnics and people make lunches and drink. Night time is where a lot of the food booths are and games…” He smiled half to himself, not noticing when Yuri's hand shot out and grabbed his arm and dragged him to the bed, making him sprawl in an ungainly heap across Yuri's body.

“Stop talking,” Yuri ordered around another yawn. “I know you have to be as tired as I am.” He let Yuuri move away enough so that they were both more comfortable, but a hand on his wrist held Yuuri to the bed, so that he wouldn’t leave. 

“I…” Yuuri swallowed his next reply; with the softness of the futon and the sun-warmed room and Yuri’s breathing evening out next to him, his body was reminding him just how tired it was and how comfortable he was at the moment. He yawned, covering his mouth and blushing and when he turned his head, only caught the barest hint of a smirk from Yuri.

“See?” he said sleepily. He looked like a cat in the sun, eyes half-open and full of sleepy content as he rolled over and curled against Yuuri’s side. “Sleep, katsudon. You’ll show me the festival tonight.” 

Yuuri managed a nod, noticing Mari as she walked by the door, her mouth twitching in amusement. “I’ll wake you two up in time,” she promised, sliding the door shut and leaving them in silence. 

If Yuri had responded to that, Yuuri never heard as he finally let his body drift into sleep, lulled by Yuri’s gentle breathing and warm touch on his skin. 


	2. Chapter 2

Yuuri woke up to the sound of a knocking outside the bedroom door and he stared around groggily, disoriented and wondering just what was preventing him from sitting up properly. His gaze was caught by pale blond hair that lay against his arm and he felt his cheeks warm with a blush to have Yuri so close to him.

"Yuuri? Are you and Yurio awake in there?" There was a wicked edge to her voice and Yuuri was suddenly more than grateful that Yuri couldn't understand Japanese, even if he was awake. "Or are you too busy to get up?"

Yuuri's ears burned and he nudged at Yuri, who just curled up closer, limbs sprawled all over Yuuri and keeping him pinned in place on the futon. "Just like a cat," Yuuri muttered, then raised his voice slightly for Mari. "I'm up, Yuri's still sleeping."

"Oh—so you did end up sleeping together," she laughed and pulled open the door, mouth twitching as she stared down at her brother and Yuri. Yuri was using Yuuri as a pillow and he was flat against the floor, unable to even really angle his head properly to look at her.

"… I don’t want to move him?" he asked weakly. It had been the same excuse as he had given when Viichan had fallen asleep on him and he winced a little. Yuri wouldn't appreciate the comparison to his old dog. He did look comfortable, though and Yuuri wasn’t sure if he'd get a violent reaction for waking him up, or something potentially more embarrassing that Mari would tease him over for years.

Mari just gave him a knowing look and nudged his foot. "If you don't get him up because you're  _ both  _ too lazy, you'll miss the booths that are set up tonight," she warned. "Even if it's just mainly games and drinking, he'd probably still like to see it."

Yuuri sighed and with his free hand, nudged at Yuri, poking him in the side, earning a displeased sound and Yuri making himself more comfortable on him. "Yuri—" Yuuri poked him again, ignoring his sister's laughter. "If you don't get up, you're going to wake up at one in the morning or something and be really pissed off…"

"I'll just skate with you at Ice Castle," Yuri muttered, not opening his eyes. "Since I know your stupid ass will probably pull a stunt like that again."

"I only did that once," Yuuri protested, shoving at him and dislodging Yuri completely. Now that he knew Yuri was up,  he didn't feel quite as guilty at kicking him off. His arm was asleep and as he moved it around, he winced at the unpleasant tingles that shocked up and down his arm.

"Sure you did," Yuri sat up slowly, smirking down at Yuuri, as he covered a yawn with one hand. "That's why I have pictures and video from those girls taken more than once."

"… those three should have never been let near a camera," Yuuri muttered, standing up and holding out a hand to Yuri. He felt groggy and off-balance, but Mari had a point about the booths. They wouldn't stay open all night; not in Hasetsu and while tomorrow would have more varieties, most people would be spending the day underneath the sakura and bringing the festival out to the trees.

Yuri took his hand and for a moment, he looked as if he would let Yuuri pull him upward, then he used the grip to yank Yuuri back down instead, sending him sprawling over his body.  Mari didn't even bothering to hide her laughter at her brother's undignified yelp and struggles to get back up again.

"You're going to have to try harder than that," Yuri laughed and kept him down easily, until Yuuri managed to wiggle free and push himself upward with a sudden, strong movement, leaning over Yuri. He was breathing a little heavily, glasses knocked sideways and cheeks red. For a moment, they both had forgotten about Mari, until she cleared her throat.

Yuuri scrambled upwards, tugging his shirt down, catching Yuri's disappointed look before he turned his gaze back to his sister. Yuri waited a few moments longer to stand up, but he reluctantly go up as well, eyes still half-tired, but entirely full of amusement at Yuuri's red face.

"Are you going to dress up for tonight or just go casual?" Mari asked, leaning against the doorframe. She didn't mention what just happened, but the quirk of her lips made it obvious that she wasn't going to forget about it. "I don't know if we have a yukata long enough for the beanpole here." She made a show of looking at Yuri, exaggerating the movements.

"Should I apologize that you're all so short?" Yuri smirked and leaned against Yuuri, causing the other to scowl and jerk away, nearly toppling him. Mari hid another laugh; she had missed the teasing her brother could display with people he was actually comfortable with.

"It's not our fault that Russians only come in extra-tall," Yuuri laughed back as Yuri barely managed to stay upright. "It's not a big deal to wear the yukata anyway," he shrugged. "Most people aren't going to be, even in Hasetsu, not for this festival. Maybe for the summer ones, or fall." There was the vaguest chance that he'd be able to come home during the summer months; but both of them usually spent that time working on new routines, practicing, perfecting—training to the utmost for the qualifying matches.

"But you'd like to see him in one," Mari said, in the most casual voice she could muster, for her brother's ears alone. When Yuuri turned red, she just laughed and ruffled his hair. "Go on and get down there, both of you," she said in English this time. "It's just really started, so it won't be that crowded."

"Is it ever anymore?" Yuuri murmured under his breath, but pushed Yuri out the door before him. They'd both fallen asleep in their clothes, so while they were rumpled, they didn't really have to change into anything else.

"More people come to visit now," Mari offered, trailing after them, now that her mission to get them up was completed. He looked over at her, a little surprised. He wasn't often home to see it and when he did come home, it was to skate or simply stay with his family.  "Because of you, Yuuri," she said patiently. "People want to visit the town that Japan's famous figure skater came from."

Yuuri made a face at that, still not believing it anymore than the first time it had been pointed out to him. "I thought that was just leftovers from Viktor coming here," he muttered, running a hand through his hair, grabbing at his jacket and handing Yuri's to him with an absent-minded gesture. It was still chilly enough at night that it was needed.

"Has he always been this oblivious?" Yuri asked over Yuuri's head, keeping Yuri in place when he would have walked out the door.

Mari nodded, sharing an amused look with Yuri. "Always," she said dryly. "You'd think that after all this time, he'd realize how good he is," she teased lightly. She knew her brother's blind spots better than anyone and didn't push too hard.

"That doesn’t have anything to do with people coming to the town!" Yuri protested. "Or else Moscow or Quebec or any of those places would be filled with people, too."

"Who says they're not?" Yuri groused. "Whenever I go back to my neighborhood, I have to dodge those groupies of mine." He poked Yuuri in the chest. "And I came from a much bigger city than here, Yuuri. This little town… it's special for them."

"… I know," Yuuri shrugged, but he didn't want to think about it. He knew all too well how much his town looked to him, how proud they were of him and it made him want to try harder than ever so that he didn't let them down again. He let himself relax to tease Yuri. "Are they still throwing cat ears to land on your head?" he asked, keeping his voice as innocent as possible.

"Not in the streets," Yuri flushed, while Mari looked more than a little amused at the idea. "And not since last year," he crossed his arms tightly against his chest. "They just …get all wide-eyed and creepy when they're around me."

"I had no idea figure skating was  _ that _ popular," Mari interjected. "Well, you won't have to worry about screaming  _ fans _ here," she said. "Just girls that are going to be staring at Yuuri's foreign friend." She smirked at him and tugged at the long strand of blonde hair. "We don't get that many people from out of town here and the high school girls  _ love _ blonde hair."

"… are you serious?" Yuri stared at her. "You have to see more people with…" he trailed off as Yuuri shook his head, smiling faintly. "It's not that big of a town here and we don’t really get many people from out of town. It's not like Tokyo where there are people from all over the world that visit. You're going to gain more fans, Yuri—and not just for your skating."

Yuri's cheeks turned faintly pink and he grabbed at Yuuri's coat. "Then I expect you to use yourself as a distraction to keep them away from me, katsudon." He stared to push them out the door, but Yuuri stopped him with an easy hand on his shoulder.

 

"Hold on. I want to tell my mom we're leaving first," he laughed a little and poked at Yuri's chest. "And you have a lot of faith in me keeping away a group of teenage girls," he said. "I don't think any force on earth could stop them if they want to pet your hair."

"Yuuri never could keep them away," Mari laughed. "Especially after he started skating." She laughed even harder when Yuuri stared at his sister, eyes gone with shocked disbelief. "Don't tell me you didn't ever figure it out, Yuuri." She ruffled his hair. "The heartbreaker of the town," she said lightly and when Yuuri was stuttering and focusing his attention on his mother that came to the entryway, she and Yuri shared a look.

"Did you and Yuri have a good rest?" Hiroko gave her son a gentle hug. "I'm so glad he convinced you. I was afraid he'd have to hunt you down at Minako's or the ice rink." Her look was understanding as it swept over him and then flicked over to Yuri.

Yuuri wrinkled his nose. "I already skated this morning," he said, running a hand through his hair and looking embarrassed. He didn’t say anything about the studio; his mother knew him all too well and after all, Minako's studio had been his mainstay more than home had been when he had something on his mind.

"I know you did," she patted his hand. "I'm just glad your friend convinced that there is times that you can rest, too." She beamed over at Yuri, obviously pleased at the positive influence he had on her son. "Do you need anything for the festival?" she straightened Yuuri's coat, switching to Yuri without even a pause, ignoring his startled look. "You haven't been home for the flowers in so long…"

Yuuri had to laugh at that. "The last time I was home for the flowers, Viktor brought a snowstorm with him and ruined the season. I thought it would have had something to do with Russians, but the weather wasn't cold at all when you swept in soon after."

"I wasn't as dramatic as Viktor, that's all," Yuri huffed, earning another round of laughter from all of them this time. Yuri had been dramatic in his own way, most notably in how he had announced his arrival to the city and the ice rink. "… at least, not in that way," he muttered, the tips of his ears red.

"There's still a dent from where you kicked me into the wall," Yuuri said cheerfully, eyes bright with amusement, as if Yuri hadn't be unforgivably violent in that meeting. "Yuuko refuses to have it fixed, she says that it's too amusing and it's a reminder of your first trip to the Ice Castle."

Hiroko raised an eyebrow at Yuri. She hadn't heard that before and Yuuri just waved off her concern with a quick hug before pulling away again. "Don't worry about it," he reassured her. "He hasn't done that recently," he teased. Yuri had always found ways to grab Yuuri's attention and most of them had been  _ violent _ methods.

"I don’t think he would have to anymore, now that he has your attention," she patted his shoulder. "Don't stay up too late," she kept her voice brisk. "You'll want to get a good spot tomorrow for the cherry blossoms, before it gets too crowded with people."

Yuri just kept quiet, eyes narrowed faintly on Yuuri. He was going to ask just what was being said after they were walking. He had picked up pieces of Japanese over the years with Yuuri, but it was nowhere near the fluency he needed to understand the dialect from Yuuri's hometown.

"If I can drag Yuri out of bed that early," Yuuri laughed, but he knew that it wouldn't be a problem; it was less likely for them to stay in bed, even in the off-season, their bodies were used to waking up early to train. Unless it was right after a competition, it felt almost wrong to stay in bed when the time could be used to stretch or dance or skate.

"Last time we had to wake  _ you _ up for practice, I think there was a bucket of water involved," Yuri teased back. He was already edging toward the door, now that he was wide-awake, he wanted to explore with Yuuri while they had the chance. It wasn't that he disliked his family, but it wasn't like he was going to be able to spend that much time with Yuuri on his home ground, either. Yuuri in Japan was more relaxed, more open and teasing, without worrying about how he was perceived from the people around him.

"Again, that was only once and that was because I had…" Yuuri's cheeks turned red as he remembered why he had been up all night; he hadn't ever told anyone and wasn't about to now, either. "Um… let's just go," he said quickly, giving his sister a quick hug and then practically dragged Yuri out the door.

~

It wasn't wholly dark outside, the sky was still filled with the edge of sunlight and there were still people moving through the streets, laughter and conversation echoing between the buildings. It was busier than Yuri thought it would be and as they walked further into town, he was surprised at the expanse that was spread out before him.

"I don't remember seeing all of this," he muttered, brows scrunched up. He had based through the town when he had first come here; with a single-minded focus that had apparently blurred everything else around him. "Not that I was really looking…" Even after his head had cooled down a bit, he'd stuck mostly close to the ice rink, beach or the inn; not actually going out into the town. "You actually have a bigger town here than I thought, katsudon."

"Nothing like an actual city," Yuuri gave a shy wave to a few people that spotted him and Yuri, before tugging him through the winding streets. "It used to be a lot busier when I was younger, but…" he shrugged. "A lot of people moved away—even I didn't stay."  

He felt vaguely guilty about that, but he knew that he couldn't have gone as far as he did if he hadn't moved away. He loved his hometown, but over the years, each place he visited and roamed to become pinpoints in a map as well. Like a bird, he had a nest to come home to, but the longer he spent in Russia and with the group of skaters that he dubbed 'Team Russia', he wondered if his nest had shifted. His  gaze flicked over to Yuri when the other was looking at the booths that were up ahead, situated in clustered rows near the high school.  _ For other reasons, too. _

There were clusters of younger people here, clumps of girls in their school uniforms, boys trying to look not as interested in the festivities, but still in their own groups. Here and there, a couple held hands as they walked through the lantern lit walkways. It was familiar and had been so much a part of Yuuri's childhood that it almost hurt to see it; it had been too long since he had last been to one.

"Katsuki-senpai!" Yuuri turned at the sound of the semi-familiar voice and stared at the group of girls that had managed to surround him and Yuri. "It's been so long since you've been home! Are you still skating?" Yuuri tried to stammer out a reply, when one of the other girls focused on Yuri. "And who's your  _ friend _ ?"

Yuri blinked and stared at them, eyes gone wide with how eager they were. He kept his voice quiet, muttering in Russian, on the off chance Yuuri would have picked up enough to get the gist of what he was saying. "I thought Japanese girls weren't so pushy."

Yuuri's expression never changed, except for the hint of a smile at the corner of his lips. "You read too many comics," he replied back, his words a little more muddled and the accent truly atrocious, but Yuri had to grin anyway at the reply before he continued with the group.

"I know it's been awhile," he ran a hand through his hair, unconsciously drawing attention to the longer strands. "And yes—I'm still skating," his voice turned quieter and the happy smile on his face didn’t go unnoticed by them. "I don't think I could quit any time soon." Not  _ now _ at least, not when he finally found his stride and someone to guide him and others to challenge him without crushing his drive to compete.

"At least you admit that now," Yuri muttered and all eyes turned to him at the English. They hadn’t paid attention to the Russian before, but now ..

"Oooh, is your friend from America?" The girl nearest to him asked, "or … " her eyes widened as she stepped closer, causing Yuri to take a step back. "Is this the other Yuri?" she beamed. "The one that came here with Viktor a few years ago?" She gave a theatrical sigh. "You're just as cute as you were then."

Yuri's next words died in his throat and one of her friends smacked her lightly on the shoulder.  Yuuri was trying to hold back a laugh. "You were there watching us skate that first time, weren't you?" he asked. He took in their appearance and smiled softly. "Did you all just graduate?" asked, and when they nodded, his smile widened. "Congratulations!"

Yuri's cheeks went pink at the comment. "Were these your classmates or something, ka…" he coughed, maybe using Yuuri's nickname wouldn't be the best here and besides…  _ it was just his name for Yuuri.  _ No one else could use it. "Yuuri," he finished off, voice still strained at the end.

Yuuri shook his head. "They're a few years younger than me," he said, tilting his head to the side. "You were in junior high during the skating competition?" he asked them. When they nodded. he turned to Yuri with a smile. "They're about your age, then," he offered with a grin. "No wonder—"

"Katsuki-san was already in America when we went to high school," the girl nearest to him pouted. "So we never actually got to be in the same school as him." They were still all too close and one reached out and gently tugged at a strand of Yuri's hair, causing him to step back, eyes going wide again.

"Oops… sorry," she giggled. "I always want to touch it the last time you were here…" she stared up at him, her cheeks pink and she bowed slightly, but her eyes were bright with laughter as her friends giggled behind her. "Since Katsuki-sempai didn't do so, we should introduce ourselves." She winked at him. "Then maybe you'll remember us."

The girl that Yuri was beginning the think of as the ringleader cleared her throat and her English was very precise, as if to make sure that she wouldn't make any mistakes in something so important as an actual introduction. "My name is Atsuko Kari, this is Mashimoro Ami and this one here—" she tugged on her friends arm, who was still staring at Yuri with wide eyes, a blush on her cheeks. "This is Inori Mako."

"I… " Yuri fumbled for the words and finally gave Yuuri a helpless look. These girls weren't as bad as the Angels—even if they were a lot more touchy-feely than he had expected. His standard for Japanese manners had come from Yuuri, though and the various fans that had been scattered throughout different competitions. At NHK, they had been almost painfully reserved and polite around him.

Yuuri managed to keep the smile from his face as he 'rescued' Yuri. "I warned you," he muttered in Russian. He smiled at the trio. "I think you're scaring him," he said gently to them. "He's never going to come back to Hasetsu and then what will you do?" he teased. "You won't be able to actually talk to him."

Atsuko, seemed the most outspoken and she looked over at the two of them. "Yeah, but will he want to come back here if he doesn't have a reason?" she grinned. "Since you don't live here anymore, Katsuki-sempai?" Her look was a little too knowing and Yuuri slowly moved his gaze over to Yuri, wondering how much  _ he _ understood from the Japanese.

Yuri still seemed uncomfortable. but not anymore than he had been and Yuuri breathed a sigh of relief that Yuri hadn't caught the insinuation. "I….well, I'm still skating," he said carefully. "And my coach is in Russia…" There weren't that many large rinks to cater to his needs in Japan, not like there had been in America or now Russia. That part was easy to explain. Saying that he had found a new sort of family in Russia was harder to explain.

"You don't have to explain, Katsuki-sempai," Ami laughed. "I think that we understand." She grabbed at her friends hands. "Let's leave them alone," she scolded her too-bold friends and gave Yuri a cheerful wave and bright grin. "I hope you enjoy the festival and the you'll come to the flower viewing party tomorrow."

Yuri gave a cautious nod, but he was looking more and more as if he was uncertain about this whole venture and didn't relax until the stream of people moved around them again, with only nods and small waves, rather than just the overwhelming force that were teenage girls.

"Good job, Yuuri," Yuri muttered under his breath. "That overwhelmed you couldn't give me their names?" He had to say something to get back at him for being so overwhelmed from the unexpected encounter. Teasing Yuuri was an easy and fun target.

"I didn’t know them!" Yuuri protested."They weren't in any of my classes and or my year—" he coughed and looked away. "Did you know everyone that was four years below  _ your _ age In school?" he demanded.

"I studied at home, with tutors," Yuri shrugged, looking away. "Was skating more than anything—I'm surprised you didn't do that, katsudon." Now that it was mainly just him and Yuuri, he felt safe in using the nickname again, even if they were moving through crowds of people.

"School was just as important as skating," Yuuri shrugged. "And… I have to be able to do something when I can't skate anymore," he grinned faintly as Yuri opened his mouth, an angry scowl already fixed over his features, ready to protest that. "I can't keep skating forever,  as much as I want to."  He looked as if he wanted to say something more, when something up ahead caught his eye  and he stopped and turned to Yuri. "Wait here. I'll be right back."

Yuri was left there, hunched up next to a booth that was selling ceramics of some sort. His eyes passed over small bowls and cups, before he paused on one that had a stylized tiger on it, sitting in a curved bit of moon. When he peeked inside, there was a little pawprint and he debated the desire for the cup and being mocked for owning it.

_ If it's just at Yuuri's, no one back home can make fun of me for it, _ he decided, fingers lingering over the cup and giving the girl behind the booth a nervous smile. He had some Japanese money on him and he doubted the cup would be more than he had on hand. He looked around to make sure Yuuri wasn’t there, even if might need him for translation. He just hoped that his Japanese would be enough as he stabbed a finger at the cup. "How much?"

She blinked at his aggressive tone, but her eyes softened at the blush that he was trying to hide as she named a price, not even pointing to the sticker on the side of the cup. He was already obviously embarrassed enough and she pushed the tray in front of her so that he could put the money down, coins clinking together.

"Is it…gift?" she asked, hand waving off to where Yuuri had gone. "For Katsuki-san?"

"Does everyone here know him?" Yuri muttered under his breath, shaking his head quickly. He'd find something more fitting for Yuuri, he'd just have to be sneakier about it as he saw Yuuri coming up to them something held carefully in his hands and his nose twitched at the smell of hot pastry and sugar.

Even if he indicated it wasn’t' a gift, she still carefully wrapped up the cup in brown paper, placing it in a bag, before handing it to Yuri. "I have lots more here," she winked at him and then smiled brightly as Yuuri came up next to the booth, his cheeks flushed and eyes bright with excitement.

"Close your eyes," he said and Yuri balked a little, but Yuuri looked so eager that he sighed. "You're being weird, katsudon," he muttered, setting aside the bag on the table in a clear spot, before closing his eyes and holding out his hands. It was obvious that Yuuri had bought some sort of snack, but he was making a weird production out of it.

Something warm was placed in his hands and he automatically opened his eyes, staring at the fish-shaped pastry in his hands. "Katsudon…" he began warningly, but the anger wasn't even at the edge of his voice. He brought it closer to his face to sniff it, nearly going cross-eyed, taking a tentative bite of it. Chocolate and sugared dough filled his mouth and he resisted the urge to eat it even faster, ignoring Yuuri's delighted laugh.

"A fish for a cat," Yuuri teased, smile wider than before and Yuri paused in his eating, whacking at Yuuri lightly against his shoulder, but didn't let go of the treat.

"… I'm enjoying this too much to respond" he said, nose up in the air. "I'll get you back for it, though." He looked at Yuuri out of the corner of his eye, who was nibbling the tail end of the pastry and smiling happily to himself, not even responding to Yuri's so-called threats seriously.  

"Uh huh, I'm sure you will," Yuuri said, using his free hand to guide Yuri away from the booth, Yuri only pausing long enough to grab the bag with his cup. He looked relaxed and happy. "I used to help at these festivals," he said absently. "When I was still doing school more than skating, the different classes had different booths set up… " he pointed out the clusters of students, pausing in front of a plastic pool with goldfish swimming around lazily.

"They're not going to touch my hair again, are they?" Yuri asked, eyeing the group suspiciously. He wasn't all that eager to meet any of the students.

"No," Yuuri said with a laugh, "those fangirls of yours had had a bet with one another. The boys just want to see you fail at catching a goldfish." Yuri huffed and shoved the fish in his mouth and knelt down next to the pond.

"Try me, katsudon," he held out a hand for the small net, tongue sticking out of the corner of his mouth as he concentrated. He was determined to prove Yuuri wrong and barely noticed when Yuuri paid for the game. He didn't know what he'd  _ do  _ with a goldfish, but it was the principle of the matter now; his pride was on the line.

He wasn’t going to admit out loud that he was having more fun than he thought he'd have.

He swore under his breath when the first fish broke through the net and was determined to try again when Yuuri lay a gentle hand on his wrist and took the new net from him. "Like this—" he said, carefully wiggling the net underneath, going slower than Yuri had tried, hands tense as he lifted up the fish, earning applause from the groups watching.

"You're the fastest one," The boy grinned as he bagged up the fish and handed it to Yuuri. "Good job." There was a sudden crowd of people around the fishing booth and Yuuri barely stammered out his thanks, but took the chance to slip away, his hand still on Yuri's wrist, fingers warm and firm as he tugged him through the crowd.

He blushed and was glad the dusk hid the color in his cheeks, Yuuri oblivious to it all. He didn't know why he was overreacting so much, or why Yuuri was being so familiar with his touches.  _ I could blame Viktor entirely for this, or Mila…  _ Those two were entirely too free with their unexpected hugs and grabs and while Yuri thought he was used to it, he wasn’t expecting anything something so careful from Yuuri.

Yuri wondered just what was going to come out of this trip and this unexpected, more open side of Yuuri. The selfish part of him wanted to keep it for himself; the hint of a teasing smile, the small jabs and mischief underneath a polite expression. No one was around to see  _ him _ , either – to make fun of him for smiling, for enjoying himself. No one to mock him for 'finally growing up' and ruffle his hair like he was still a child.

Yuuri looked back at him, a question in his eyes, when Yuri 's steps had slowed and his gaze slid down to his hand and then he turned bright red and dropped Yuri's hand. Yuri regretted the lost moment just as much he wanted to tease without abandon at Yuuri's expression.

"Did you think you'd lose me in this crowd?" he asked, exaggerating his height. "All you had to do was look up."

Yuuri huffed and was about to swat him with the remains of the pastry, when Yuri grabbed it from him to save it from sudden destruction, taking an exaggerated bite and watching the tips of Yuuri's ears turn pink, adding to the color in his cheeks. "Much better than those flowers you were talking about," he said, licking up the cream from the corners of his lips, before handing the treat back to Yuuri.

Yuuri opened his mouth to retort, but he swallowed hard instead and shook his head. "That's… that's tomorrow," he said quickly, looking more nervous and off-center than before and there was an odd swirl of pride in Yuri's chest for eliciting such a reaction. "When we meet up with the others for the…for the flower viewing…" he gestured vaguely at the dark shapes dotted along the hillside and while there were specks of light here and there, the shapes and colors of the trees was lost to the dark.

He didn’t know what to think about the idea of staring at  _ trees _ and eating flowers, but it was apparently something special to Yuuri—something he hadn't been able to do for a long time. He couldn't himself give in so easily, though and he pushed Yuuri along the pathway, only stopping in front of the booth Yuuri had to have been at earlier, with the fish-shaped deserts.

"Just as long as you make up your weird flower eating with something equally cool after," he huffed, crossing his arms against his chest and giving the booth and then Yuuri a pointed look.

Yuuri was startled into a laugh and that look of mischief was back in his eyes, chasing away the earlier embarrassment. He turned away only long enough to buy another treat, then as he handed it to him, his fingers lingered for a moment.  "Just you wait."

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I had to have a festival and I drew on my memories of the festivals I went to in Japan, which were tucked along the street right next to the school I taught at. The fish-shaped pastry? Taikyaki and I swear, it's the food of the gods and I'd probably my soul for my chocolate-cream taiyaki that I used to get almost every weekend. I hope you enjoyed this chapter~


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks to [Undefined_Sorrow](http://archiveofourown.org/users/undefined_sorrow/profile) for beta-reading this ~~monster of a~~ chapter!

They wandered the streets of the festival for a while longer, Yuri watching the sun fully set and the lanterns come alive in the rows. Yuuri pointed out the signs, teaching Yuri how to read the words so that he knew which was the taiyaki that he enjoyed so much, another booth selling tickets for a show or other crafts, and other types of food or drink. "This is payback for me teaching you Cyrillic, isn't it?" Yuri grumbled, but it was half-hearted at best. It wasn't as if anything was terribly complicated and it was easier to make a connection when they got to the booth, like the one selling the yakitori. Yuuri spelled out the letters, lips kicking up into a grin as he accepted two skewers of meat from the booth, steaming and covered in a glaze.

"It totally is," Yuuri said, not even hiding his amusement as he bit into the chicken. "Me feeding you delicious street food is just the same as abandoning me on a street corner, with the threat of 'if you knew the words, you'd have no problem getting home'."

  
"Hey, you made it home, didn’t you?" Yuri asked, smirking as he found a seat for the two of them to sit and people-watch while trying not to get sauce all over themselves as they walked and ate at the same time. "Although I still say you cheated. Asking a stranger how to get a cab wasn't what I envisioned at the time."

  
"…I told you, I wasn't going to walk through the snow and ice, reading street signs, which by the way—were covered with the aforementioned _snow and ice_. I'm surprised the cab knew where to go, since all I did was give him an address that I hoped was correct."

"He ended up being a _fan_ ," Yuri rolled his eyes, taking a bite that almost took away half of the meat. While he sulked, Yuuri had to laugh. It had been so random, for the cab driver to have recognized him and while he didn't speak any English, Yuuri had recognized the _'Yaponskiy figurist_ ' and ' _Yaponskiy Yuri_ ' to know that the man had actually watched the competitions. "He knew you, too—he begged me for your autograph."

  
"I was there for that part," Yuri groused, but he still looked amused. "Only you, Katsudon, could find the only cab driver that was a fan of figure skating and use it to get home."

  
"What can I say?" Yuuri laughed and leaned against Yuri comfortably, eyes on the slowly dwindling crowds. "I got lucky that time, but as cruel as it was, I think I saw what you meant to do." The students were starting to pack up their booths and most of what was left was the ones that catered to food and drinks. Yuuri wasn't of age yet in Japan and after being told of that disastrous night in Sochi, he wasn't about to drink anything either. At least not in public; in moderation it wasn't bad and unless something tipped his mood and he ended up drinking half a bottle of sake, he didn't have to worry about anything he shared with Minako-sensei, either.

"You picked up Yakov's instructions first," Yuri admitted, "and snuck insults from Mila. I know she was the one behind half of the ones you teased me with, even if you weren’t quite sure what you were saying."

  
"Viktor helped with a lot of those," Yuuri laughed at the way Yuri's nose wrinkled up. "He said it would be fun to rile you up and you'd be impressed that I managed to insult you in your language, rather than you trying to guess whatever I managed to dish out in Japanese."

  
"At least you ended up feeling more comfortable speaking it," Yuri said softly, only a little tense with Yuuri so comfortable against him. "Even if your pronunciation is shit," he teased. "Couldn't tell if you were insulting me or trying to ask for a _favour_." He enjoyed the dusting of pink on Yuuri's face before the other stood up, taking the skewer sticks from Yuri to throw away.

  
"We should go ho- back," he said quickly. "They're closing up here, getting ready for tomorrow. We'll have to leave early so that we can make sure we get a good spot, and it's not like the trees are directly in town."

  
"…I've seen lots of your flower trees," Yuri said in confusion. "I'm probably going to go home with flowers in my suitcase and clothing from all the trees that were around."

Yuuri's face was bright and amused as he took Yuri's wrist again, pulling him along the pathways back towards his family's home. "You really haven't seen much of it at all," he promised. "Trust me—when we get to the hills and the shrine where the biggest collection of trees are, you'll understand the difference." Yuri wasn't sure what to believe, but he'd go along with it for now. Yuuri was obviously more than happy to share this part of his old life with him.

~

It wasn't horribly late when they got back to Yuuri's home, but late enough that the onsen was, as Yuuri promised, free of all other guests. The whole area was quiet except for the trickling of water from the hot springs. "I can leave you alone so you can enjoy the onsen properly," Yuuri offered, looking at Yuri with a hesitant expression. "I have spent enough time away from home that I realize that not everyone will ever be comfortable with public bathing—"

"I told you it's fine," Yuri snapped, crossing his arms, pressing the towels and robes against his chest. He hesitated at Yuuri's flinch and then sighed, running a hand through his hair. "It's fine, Katsudon," he repeated, softening his tone. "I'm not that much of a child anymore that I'm worried over it."

  
"I can tell you're not a child anymore," Yuuri muttered under his breath and Yuri wondered if he had meant for him to hear that. Yuuri turned away for a moment, before slowly pulling off his clothes, eyeing Yuri ever so often, cheeks red and Yuri realized he had been _staring_ before he turned away, stripping away his clothes quickly so that he wasn't accidentally giving a _show_. He scrubbed down, not looking at Yuuri until both of them were soaking in the spring.

Immediately, he relaxed as the heat hit his muscles and he practically slumped in the water. He just let himself relax for several minutes, not even opening his eyes as the warmth sank deep into him, seemingly erasing every ache from previous training and the chill of the night. "You're so lucky to have this," he finally groaned, opening his eyes to look over at Yuuri. "I want to import this to Russia. It would be the best thing after training and it'd make the winters suck less."

Yuuri grinned over at him, damp hair curling around his face. "And here I thought you were the tough, tough Russian that could survive any sort of freezing weather and I was the wimp." He looked completely content from the warmth of the onsen. "You'll really enjoy this more after skating tomorrow." He laughed at the look on Yuri's face. "Or I can skate and you can watch," he offered teasingly. "I won't tell Yakov that you didn't lace up your skates once."

"Katsudon, I just got here," Yuri glared at him. "I thought we were going to eat flowers or something tomorrow." He shook his head. "Do you really have a bed here?" he demanded. "Is that why you took a nap with me? You were trying to hide the fact you don't actually sleep and only skate."  


"I don't always skate," Yuuri said, keeping his tone completely bland. "Sometimes I dance."  


Yuri stared at him, speechless for a moment and then whacked him upside the head. "There really is more to life than figure skating, Katsudon," he griped. "It's not like I'm not going to skate—I'm still going to kick your ass at World's, after all—" he huffed, leaning on his arms as he rested against the smooth rock of the onsen. "I'm just not going to win because you pulled a muscle doing nothing but dancing on the ice. This is _supposed_ to be a rest for the _both_ of us."

Yuuri laughed at the disgruntled look that Yuri gave him. "I promised to skate for the triplets," he held out his hands in a mild apology. "Not even anything really intensive; but you know they're excited to see you skate again too. They'll ask all sorts of questions tomorrow when we meet up for them for the picnic."  


"The flower eating picnic?" Yuri rolled his eyes ."I swear, you better have more food than just flowers there to eat—"  


"Lots of food," Yuuri reassured him. "Mom's going to make a huge box for all of us to share and I know Yuuko and the others are bringing food and drinks, too. It's going to be a lot of fun, I promise." He looked wistful. "I haven't done it since I was sixteen."  
  
"You haven't done a lot of stuff since you were a kid," Yuri said after a moment, feeling more than the heat from the springs warm his cheeks. "Do you miss it that much? Are… are you coming back here to live or something?" Yuuri looked surprised as he turned to him, pushing his hair away from his eyes as he gave Yuri a closer look.

"No... I mean, I love home and all, and I always will but…" he trailed his fingertips atop the water, unable to keep up with Yuri's steady gaze for too long. "Russia's sort of become my home now." He kept his gaze on the water, smiling a little at the petals that had made their way into the area and cupping a few in his hands. "It'd be strange to move back. How else would I get piroshky?" he turned back to Yuri with wide, innocent eyes. "You're the one that makes it for me and you live in Russia."  


"You're only keeping me around for the food?" Yuri asked, mock-outrage in his expression. "And here I thought it was for the Russian lessons so you didn't sound like a complete moron when you ordered food or just tried to buy groceries."

  
"That's the only reason. Food and language lessons," Yuuri said dryly. "That and skating—although you do keep on staring at _me_ when I skate, so I'm not sure what I'm getting from you in that respect…" He grinned over at Yuri to let him know he was teasing, a part of him shaking at the words, worried that Yuri would take them as seriously as he might have.

Yuri snorted and tugged on the slightly longer strands of hair. "You say that so easily, but I can still kick your ass with jumps. Your dancing just isn't natural," he said. "You know when you use your powers for gain, it'll backfire on you."

  
"You mean dancing since I was four is using my powers?" Yuuri asked, snorting and leaning back against the polished rocks of the spring. "I'll have to lecture Minako-sensei for encouraging me in being so devious."

  
"If you hide her liquor for a day, that should be punishment enough," Yuri snickered. He respected Yuuri's ballet teacher—after all, she had taught him dancing for most of his life and encouraged him to skate. He just knew that she drank more than Yuuri had at that first banquet. He just hoped that she didn't get as… free with herself as Yuuri had.

"She doesn't drink all that much," Yuuri protested, "especially when she's teaching—"  


"If I had to teach a class full of kids that didn't want to do anything but screw around, I'd drink too," Yuri muttered. "But I bet you paid attention to everything she taught you. That's why you're the monster on the ice rink."

  
"Jeez, Yuri—are you planning to rob me in the middle of the night or something?" Yuuri laughed "I've never heard so many nice things from you— even if you are insulting me at the same time." He splashed a little water at Yuri. "Keep this up and I might think we're actually friends."   


"Can't have that," he said dryly. "I came all the way to Japan instead of going to Beka's place or just sitting at home, because we're _not friends_. You caught me. All I wanted was your mother's katsudon."

"But which katsudon?" They both yelped as Mari's voice intruded on their teasing, Yuri flailing backward into the water. She gave him an evil grin as he ducked further into the water leaving only his eyes visible as he gave her a glare in return.  


"What are you doing in here?" he demanded. "Isn't this just for guys or something?"  


"… I have a little brother," she said dryly, "and trust me, I'm not that into you to see what you look like beneath the water. I wanted to bring you something cold to drink since Yuuri forgot to bring it." She held a couple of boxes of cold plum juice and eyed him, a smirk tilting up the corner of her lips. "You're going to start roasting in the water soon if you stay in much longer. Yuuri should have noticed your red face. Maybe you should try the kid pools.”

Yuri was _not_ going to admit it was because of the water that his face was red or her unexpected appearance inside the onsen. _It was that stupid, stupid insinuation and it's a good thing that Yuuri is as dense as a brick or else I'd have to explain myself right now and I'm_ not _ready for that._ “I'm an adult,” he snapped instead. “I don't need to be babied.”  


Yuuri was giving his sister an exasperated look. "Jeez, Mari… You didn't have to come in here—we weren't going to stay forever. I know better than to let someone overheat in the onsen." He switched his gaze to Yuri. "Sorry about my sister. I think she forgets you're _not_ her brother and barges in like it's fine." He looked embarrassed as he took one of the cans, drifting to the edge. "I did forget though… thanks."  


She just laughed at the two of them. "The way he was here before and how you are always with him; it's like he's another brother. That Viktor too. You're all like my little brothers." When the other two didn't budge, even with her supposed calming words, she finally got the hint. "Fine, fine—I'll keep your male dignity intact. Just be careful. Sit in the cooler water, drink that--" She pointed to Yuri. "You never actually used the onsen before, just the soaking tubs. It's different."

Yuuri waited until she was gone and made a face. “She is right,” he admitted. “I'm used to the heat, but maybe you're not.”  


Yuri was still staring at the drink looking doubtful. “What is this?” He squinted at the bubbly writing on the side. “Some sort of fruit?” He grinned. “Not a flower?”  


“It’s plum juice,” Yuuri rolled his eyes. “Not everything around this time of year is flowers. I promise it's good. Plus it helps you cool down.” Yuri was still scowling down at the box and straw, before Yuuri took pity on him and put it all together, handing it back. His hands lingered for a moment, ostensibly to make sure Yuri didn't drop it, but it caused them both to blush at the prolonged contact. Yuuri took a hasty sip of his own drink, not looking at Yuri. “You mostly see plum juice at onsens,” he offered. “It's really popular. Do... do you like it?” He didn't know why he suddenly felt so awkward after asking such a simple question.  


“...yeah…” Yuri felt a little dazed and it wasn't because of what just happened. He barely felt Yuuri catch him as he toppled, but once he was hauled out of the springs and the cold water trickled down his neck he started to feel a little better.

Yuuri was kneeling next to him, with a mixture of amusement and concern. “I didn't realize Russians were so fragile,” his tone was so bland that Yuri knew he was pulling his leg. “Maybe we _should_ downgrade you to the kiddie pools.”  


“Shut up,” Yuri’s head ached from the sudden rush of blood, but the constant trickle of cold water helped. Belatedly, he realized that Yuuri was keeping up the cool water. He grabbed at the cloth, waving Yuuri away. “Just give me a few moments.” Yuuri snickered and stood up, not offended at all by Yuri practically growling at him. Yuri didn't see anyone in the bathing room, staring at them, which was good. If anyone had seen him practically faint, he would never live it down even if they were strangers. He didn’t need a repeat of Mari or some other ‘helpful’ family member suddenly there or god forbid, some random guest ogling them.

_Even if you were staring at Yuuri earlier…_ He watched Yuuri out of the corner of his eye, preening a little when _his_ gaze seemed to linger for a moment before he jerked his head to the side, cheeks red. _Maybe he's not as dense as I thought…_ It would make this whole reason for this trip a lot easier, if that was the case. "Let's get going, Katsudon," he stood up slowly, feeling less wobbly than before. Despite what he said, he didn't think he could go back into the hot water tonight. Yuri held out his hand, in an unknowing mimicry of what Viktor had done all those years ago. "I want to get some more sleep before dealing with whatever nonsense your 'no-idea-how-a-break-works' self has planned."

  
Yuuri stared at him in shock for a moment, before shaking the image from his head. "Hey! I know how to take a break!" Yuuri protested. "I just… it's just that…" It was hard to explain how much skating was a part of his routines; how much he had gone to it when everything else was crashing around him; when it was a grounding point above all else. "We're going to be doing things other than skating," he promised Yuri. He stood up as well and either uncaring or not even thinking about it, took Yuri's hand and grinned. "I can't wait."

~ 

As they paused in front of Yuri's room, the phone that had been tucked in Yuri's clothing began to ring. Yuuri raised an eyebrow at _Welcome to the Madness_ playing and he didn't bother to hide his grin.  
"Gee, Yuri… were you really that attached to your first exhibition song to have it as your ringtone three years later?" he asked.  


Yuri flushed and looked down at the caller ID. "It meant a lot," he huffed. "It was my first Grand Prix and I won, so of course I wanted to keep the song." He was going to stay offended, but then he thought of something, smirking down at Yuuri. "We can't all be as pretentious as you and have _opera_ as our exhibition song."  


"That had a lot of reasoning behind it, too," Yuuri protested. "And I never set it as my ringtone." When the phone continued to ring, Yuuri stepped away. "You better answer that." He wanted to tease Yuri a little more but he had gotten a glimpse of the caller when Yuri had pulled the phone out. He wasn't going to take away Yuri's chance to talk to his best friend. As Yuri was lifting the phone to his ear, Yuuri gave him a small wave. "I'll see you tomorrow," he said, before hurrying back down the hallway to the family part of the onsen, where his room was.

Yuri watched him go, before turning his attention to the phone call, moving into his borrowed room and flopping down on the bed. He felt something in the pocket of his robes and had to smile at the note 'for the beanpole'. "Hey, Beka—"  


"Hey—it's not too late there is it?" Otabek's voice was as quiet as usual; not much had changed over the years. "I tried to time it decently, but I've been staying up late trying to get this one aspect of my upcoming performance right—"  


"You and Katsudon," Yuri groaned. "I am all for getting better and kicking both of your asses at World's, but you can't do it if you don't actually _rest_ in between performances—" He flopped down on the bedding, wincing as his slightly damp hair hit him in the face.  


"Not for skating, Yuri," Otabek laughed softly. "I have a gig coming up in the club in a few days and I wanted to make sure I had everything down as to how I wanted to do it. Lots of mixes and timing needs to be refined."

Yuri let Otabek's voice wash over him; it was really one of the few times he got really talkative. Yuri suspected he enjoyed being a DJ more than he did skating, even if he was phenomenal at both. He was caught off guard when Otabek brought up Yuuri and Japan.  


"So how is Japan?" Otabek asked. "You've been there all of a day and I haven't seen you post any pictures of Yuuri skating yet." There was a smile is his voice and Yuri scowled in return, trying to resist the urge to rise to the bait. "You claimed he'd drag you to the rink right away."  


Yuri snorted. "That Katsudon..." He really had expected it and had honestly been surprised when Yuuri had bypassed the rink to go straight to the inn instead. "He skated as soon as _he_ got back, but thankfully left me to recover from the trip."

"So where were you earlier?" Otabek asked. "You showed up on social media—looked like something was going on in the background, but it was kind of blurry—"  


"Oh! It's apparently flower eating season or something in Japan," he shrugged it off. "We went to a festival that his town did and there were some fans there. Not surprised that they snuck a picture." At least they had been somewhat polite about it. Not asking was part for the course, but at least he hadn't been asked to pose.  


"Huh—I heard about those," Otabek mused. "My sister went to one once when she did an exchange in Japan one semester." There was definitely a smile in his voice now, as it always did when he talked about any of his family members. "She said it was worth seeing," he added, as if Yuri had protested against do anything so sappy.  


"Well, if your sister said so—" Yuri ran a hand through his hair, wincing as his fingers hit a knot. "Yeah, we're meeting up with Yuuri's old teacher and rink mates and stuff tomorrow. Said he's also got other stuff planned _other_ than skating, but you've seen his idea of free time."

"You're just as bad, Yura," Otabek laughed, seeing right through him. "If Yuuri wasn't pushing to do it, you'd be mocking him for laying around and being lazy. Didn't you shake me down for a rink to skate at when you visited me at home?"  


"I was bored!" Yuri snapped, defensive and a little embarrassed that Otabek remembered. "I also wanted to see how people looked at you when you skated in your home base," he continued, mumbling the last words. Otabek was incredibly talented, but looked at his previous failures far more than he should have at the beginning. Even if he had placed at his first Grand Prix, he'd been uncertain with what he should do next. He said it was because he didn't skate with the same grace as the other skaters, but Yuri had shot that down ruthlessly, pulling up half a dozen videos of skaters that had the same sort of physical presence that Otabek had on the ice. Not that Otabek wasn't graceful, but his power was something that had kept Yuri's eyes on his routines, competition after competition. It had made him a little jealous at first—no one would ever call Otabek a _fairy_.

"Yeah, you stared at them more than you did me," Otabek still had that faint smile in his voice. "I'm just glad you didn't yell at any of them. A lot of the people watching were my family members—they usually bought out half the seats whenever I competed at the local rinks."  


"… you really have a lot of family members," Yuri made a face. He'd met some of them—the aforementioned sister, a younger set of twin brothers… a mother that tried to get him to try all the foods that she insisted were Otabek's favourites. It had been overwhelming and at the end, as he was leaving, he had been surprised at how much he enjoyed his stay. "Not that it's a bad thing," he said hastily. He'd learned quickly how much Otabek loved his family, even with as expansive of a network that it was.

"I understand, Yura. You don't have to try and explain yourself. I'm just glad you were willing to come back more than once. We'll have to get together after World's." They had hung out multiple times, mostly when they were in the same city for a competition, but over the last few years, they had visited each other's homes and favourite spots. Otabek had been his first friend and someone Yuri considered almost family. Yuri didn't really _have_ that much family; his mother that was hardly around and then his grandfather. His rink mates could be considered friends, and there was the odd friendship he held with Viktor. Then there was Yuuri… long time rival, friend and something Yuri wasn't sure that he could quantify fully yet, not even to himself. At the very least, he was attracted to him, something his fifteen-year-old self would have never even thought of and beyond that---he shied away from the thought. He just wanted to see where it could lead him.

"Yura?" Otabek's voice startled him out of his train of thought. "Should I let you go? I know it's late there."  


Yuri shook his head, even if Otabek couldn't see it. "No—I took a nap earlier, so I'm pretty awake still." He wasn't really; the nap hadn't been that long and he still felt a little off-kilter from the dizziness from the bath. As if that thought had summoned him, he heard a faint knock on the door and Yuuri opening it a little, not facing Yuri, but holding out a water bottle.

"Sorry to interrupt, but you should drink a little more water," he said, mumbling to the hallway instead of to Yuri, as if he was afraid he was going to catch him in a state of undress. _Not that he hadn't hauled me out of the water..._ Yuri thought, getting up in one smooth motion and taking the water. "Are you feeling okay?"

"Is that Yuuri?" Otabek asked and Yuri raised an eyebrow over at the back of one Yuuri Katsuki, who was twisting his now empty hands together. Nothing to do and uncertain enough that he wasn’t sure he should leave without some sort of acknowledgement past giving him water. "Tell him hello and I'll see him at World's." There was a pause and Yuri knew with the next words that Otabek had been friends with him for too long. "You should bring him along next time you come visit since you're both getting so close."

Yuri was glad that Yuuri's back was to him, so that didn't see the red colour his face turned from the sly insinuation that Otabek managed to slide into his tone. "Beka says hello," he mumbled, hand stilling on the door frame, ready to shut it and block away the image of Yuuri in a loose shirt and pants, standing still in the hallway as if waiting for something more. "And… uh." He tripped over his words, especially when Yuuri turned to face him. "I feel better now. Thanks for the water."

"Better?" Otabek asked and Yuri was torn between the two conversations and he dropped his head, letting his hair cover his face, habit kicking his old defence mechanism to the surface. "What happened?"  


"I got a little overheated, that's all," Yuri said quickly and tilted his head up enough to gave Yuuri a brief, tense smile. "Nothing to worry about."  


Yuuri seemed to get the message and he only hesitated a moment. "Get some sleep, Yuri," he admonished. "You need more than you got."  


"Says the person that probably didn't sleep at all," Yuri shot back, grin melting from tense to amused, gaze challenging as it focused on Yuuri. "You probably just stared at me like a creep or something, then snuck away to skate."  


"I slept with you the entire time!" Yuuri protested, loud enough to be heard by Otabek.

"…I think I need to hear more about how your vacation with Katsuki is going, Yura," Otabek said after a moment of silence and this time Yuuri clearly saw the flush that had spread across Yuri's face, but at least his face was a matching colour, realizing what he said  


"I'm going to bed now," Yuuri said rapidly. His words slurred together and were so faint that Yuri barely heard them before Yuuri was already down the hallway and out of the public area of the inn. Yuri turned his attention back to the phone and tried to ignore Otabek's snickering. _He's definitely spent way too much time with me_ , he thought sourly and began to explain what had actually happened.

~

Yuuri didn't go straight to bed; his sister was still awake and watching a drama when he came into the family room. She looked up when he came in, patting the seat next to her. "Yuuri—it's been awhile," she said. "Not quite as long as last time, but more than a year. Do you like Russia that much more?" As he sat down, she turned her teasing smile on him. "Or maybe it's the company you're keeping?"

He huffed and leaned against the table, still fighting off his blush from earlier. "My coach is there, I have plenty of training opportunities from _other_ coaches and I've…. I've made a lot of friends there," he said carefully. It was still hard to say he had _multiple_ friends and not all of them were in Russia, but scattered across the globe. Once he had opened himself up more, he had become closer to the other skaters that he crossed paths with in various competitions.

"Mhmm… I'm glad to see you found a place where you can be yourself," she said, running a hand through his hair. It was an old gesture; she had always been the one he had gone to when he was at home and suffering from bouts of depression and insecurity. "You tried hard here, but then you left for America. Are you sure you can't move back home? I know we'd love to have you back."

He shrugged and looked down at his hands. "Everyone here—they have this expectation of me, Mari and…" he hesitated over his words, searching for the right ones. "I want to continue stepping forward and testing my limits and I can't do that here. It's not fair to keep an experienced coach in Hasetsu and with Celestino; we just—he was a good coach, but…."  


"He didn't know how to work around your insecurities and gave in too easily to your bad moments," she agreed. "Viktor coming to coach you was just what you needed. Whisking you away to Russia to be coached by him wasn't something we expected, but with you winning all those competitions, it's obviously worked." She gave him a look out of the corner of her eye. "I'm surprised he didn't come with you to visit everyone." Not that she hadn't believed that Yuuri could win before, but having your childhood idol tell you that you had talent and he was going to make sure everyone saw it, was something else. He and Viktor were incredibly close friends and even for awhile, she thought they were going to date, get together—but these days he seemed more attached to the _other_ Yuri, the one that had made the impression of being an uncaring punk when he first visited Hasetsu.

Yuuri laughed. "If Viktor had come, then I'd be convinced I needed to skate more than I'm already planning to do. Not that he'd make me do something like that," he said hastily, even if she hadn't even opened her mouth to indicate such a thing, "but I…I'd want to, you know?" He shrugged.  


"I'm surprised you and the punk there aren't challenging each other like before." Her voice was deceptively casual. "You were both so fierce when you skated against each other the first time and I've _seen_ all those competitions. You both seemed be skating against each other especially."  


"Maybe," he laughed, "but it's fun to see Yuri's face when I pull out an old routine that Minako taught me and act completely casual about it—even if I remembered working for weeks and weeks to get it right when I first learned it. He turns around and finds something else and—" his expression softened. "I love seeing him strive higher and higher. It's fun to try and outdo him and I think he feels the same way. Not that he doesn't want to win against everyone else, but—"

"But you're his friend and he's always seen you as his main rival. Even when Viktor was skating, I bet he didn't think of him as much of a rival as he thought you were."  


"I'm just really glad we're friends now," Yuuri's voice was quiet. "For a long time, I didn't think he'd ever want to share rink space with me, much less be my friend. It took a while—but he relaxed when he realized I wasn't going to leave and I wanted to keep skating." He traced an old, scuffed mark on the table. "I think a lot of people in his life left him or broke promises. Even if I didn't make any personally to him, I think he still saw my skating as a kind of a promise."

"Hm," she looked thoughtful at that. "Still, it's rare that you come home between competitions and even more rare to bring someone with you—and I saw your list," she poked him in the side. "You planned a whole set of events for him, didn't you?"  


"I wanted to show him that I could do other stuff than figure skating!" he protested. "And—and this time of the year is perfect too. It…" His expression grew embarrassed. "He also didn't get to see a lot of Japan when he was here and you know how it is at the competitions. Three days at the most of being in the country and it's all training and rehearsing and trying not to go crazy in between it all. This way…"  


"This way he can learn about his friend and the things that are special to him, as well as seeing how much of a friend you have been to him," she finished, ruffling his hair and giving him a light shove. "Although I've noticed him looking at you, Yuuri. Are you sure he's _just_ a friend?" she teased.

"Are you feeling okay, sis?" he gave her a baffled look. "Yuri doesn't look at me any differently than he does anyone else. Oh, well—maybe he scowls less than he does say, with…. with Mila or some of his fans, but—"  


"… that poor boy," she snorted, getting to her feet and dragging Yuuri with her. "Alright, then—I've seen you yawning and I know that little catnap of yours wasn't enough to have you recover from your trip here and whatever nonsense you were doing before and after you landed." She nudged him towards his room and he gave her a brief hug. He didn't know exactly what she was implying or if he did, he didn't want to go too far down that road. It was an impossible thought and he shoved it back into the corners of his mind, where it could keep company with the other thoughts he'd had about a grown-up Yuri Plisetsky.

~

Yuuri realized some sort of outside force was waking him up and it wasn't his alarm clock. He blinked open bleary eyes, staring up at Yuri's smirking face above him, trying to ignore the fingers poking at his side, trying to nudge him awake. "Boy, Katsudon—and here I thought you were lying when you said that you actually slept. You didn't mention that it's almost impossible to wake you up." Yuri was fully dressed and looking entirely too cheerful and wide awake for the sun barely being up. "Aren't you the one that said we had to be up early?"

Yuuri groaned and hid his head under the pillow, trying to get back to sleep and block out Yuri's voice at the same time. He had said that and he was used to waking up early, but he hadn’t planned _this_ early. He didn't think he did, anyway and he let himself enjoy the dark for a moment before the pillow was snatched away from him and light flooded the room. "Go back to sleep," he moaned. "It's way too early."  


"Katsudon, if I'm going to be awake and listening to some old man talk about my hair and how I need to find a pretty girl to hook up with and 'oh I have a daughter', _you're_ going to be awake to keep the creeps away from me." He smirked down at Yuuri's shocked look. "You need to get some more strangers in this town, if they're all going to be that creepy over the few you have here."  


"Wha… you're dating someone?" Yuuri tried to make his still-asleep brain work and process the words. "You work fast, Yura…" He closed his eyes again to shut out the light and Yuri's outraged look. "You work fast, Yuri…"

"Idiot," Yuri's voice was incredulous. "Your brain really does shut off when you're not skating. Get up, get some food and something to wake yourself up." He smacked Yuuri on the side of his head before physically dragging him out of the bed and onto the floor. He ignored Yuuri's yelp of dismay at the sudden shock of cold air and the hard floor, nudging him with his foot. "Don't take too long to get ready," he ordered. "If you're not out of your room in five minutes, I'm coming back in to _watch_ you get dressed." Yuuri sat up quickly at that and suddenly had the energy to get up and push Yuri out the door.

"I'll get ready, I'll get ready—" he said quickly. "Jeez, you're a real nag in the morning," he huffed and Yuri just laughed and let Yuuri nudge him out the door, but he didn't go far, leaning on the other side. He intended to keep his promise, both to get _going_ , since Yuuri had been so insistent the night before and to needle Yuuri and tease him until he blushed again.

"I'm timing you, Katsudon," he called through the door and was rewarded with what he _knew_ was a curse and there was more fumbling sounds before the door was yanked open again, Yuri nearly losing his balance before he was face to face with Yuuri, wearing _jeans_ and a casual shirt, his hair pulled back slightly, the strands long enough to be held in a small ponytail. "Does this meet your requirements?"

Yuuri looked as if he was hiding a smile and brushed past him, somehow seeming more awake than should be possible after being a zombie not even five minutes previous. Yuri trailed after him, listening to Yuuri mumble about hot tea and getting the lunch box together. One hand was already on his phone, tapping out a text message to someone. "I know the triplets are going to be awake and they'll wake Yuu-chan and Takeshi up…"

"I've determined you really aren't human," Yuri muttered, accepting the cup of tea that Yuuri's mom handed him as they entered the kitchen. "You weren't even forming proper sentences ten minutes ago and now you're planning the day?" He held the tea closer, sniffing as something unexpected hit his sense. He looked over to Hiroko in surprise "Jam?" he asked.

She put a hand to her cheek, looking pleased at the smile that crossed his face at the familiar taste as he drank the tea. "Yuuri said that you liked your tea a different way and sent some tea from Russia and Mari and I looked up different ways to prepare it. I hoped that I had gotten it right and timed the jam for when I heard you and Yuuri coming down the hallway." He took another sip and Yuuri smiled a little as he accepted his own cup of tea—green—and shook his head at Yuri. "I told mom that Russians are barbarians that ruin tea with jam and honey and she was all too happy to make sure you had some while you were here with us."  


"You just don't have good taste," Yuri stuck out his tongue. "It's the only way to have tea."

Yuuri's phone buzzed and he turned his attention to it, covering a yawn with one hand. "Yuu-chan said that she's all set with the girls, if we're ready to meet up with them…" He turned to his mom, who nodded and handed over a container filled with several cloth-wrapped boxes.

"I just finished the last of them this morning," she beamed at him and Yuri had to wonder just how early Yuuri's mom had gotten up to complete all of this for them. "You and your friends have a good time now," she squeezed his hand. "Your father and I will probably show up a little later with Minako after we check on some of the guests here. Mari said she'll be up first, once we drag her out of bed."

"Must be a thing with your kids," Yuri smirked. "I had to kick Yuuri out of bed this morning."  


"He's always been like that," Hiroko looked fond and patted Yuuri on the shoulder. "But once he's awake, you can't get him back to sleep for the world. Too stubborn and trying to do too much." She nudged at them both towards the door. "Now go on—it's a long walk and you'll want to make sure you don't wear yourselves out." She looked towards the windows, letting in an early morning light. "It looks like it's going to be a nice day, though."  
  
Yuri finished off his tea with a hasty gulp and grabbed Yuuri by his shoulders. “Alright, let's go, then,” he grinned. “Let’s see what this flower thing is all about.”

~

Once they reached the area where the trees were, Yuri stopped dead in his tracks, shocked at the veritable sea of pink and white laid out below them. The trees they had passed on the walk here hadn't given any hint to _this._ “Okay, Katsudon. I admit, this might have been worth it.” There were already dozens of people scattered around, setting up blankets and Yuuri searched around until he spotted a familiar group, waving.

“They drove,” he explained to Yuri, who looked confused as to how the Nishigori family could have beaten them there. “And before you ask why we didn’t go with them, would you really want to be in a small car with three young girls that worship every sort of skating move and haven’t seen you in three years?”

Yuri paled a little at the thought. It was because of those three girls that he had gotten roped into a figure skating competition with Yuuri, when all he had wanted at the time was to drag Viktor back to Russia so that he could fulfil his promise. Not that he didn’t end up making good on his word in the end, but Yuri had been annoyed for the better part of a year at seeing all the progress Yuuri was making under Viktor’s tutelage, while he struggled and fought under Yakov and Lilia.

“I am not going to be putting on another small-town circus for them,” Yuri grumbled. “Not this close to World’s.”  


“But you’ll do it another time?” A voice piped up from behind him, and soon he was surrounded by three identical girls, wearing varying shades of what Yuuri had told him were yukata. “We’ll make sure we take lots of video,” one of the girls reassured and Yuuri now looked a little pale, shaking his head firmly.

“No, you won’t,” he said, pushing them along, back to the blanket where Yuuko and her husband were waiting. “Yes. we’ll be skating, but none of it is to go on the internet.” He shuddered at the image of Yuri’s fangirls suddenly showing up in Hasetsu.

“Listen to Yuuri,” Yuuko scolded. She was wearing a yukata as well, her normally messy hair pulled up in a bun, with a hairclip that trailed flowers framing her face. She looked unlike the casual owner of a small-time sports rink and she gave Yuuri a sideways look to see his reaction but Yuuri was only smiling as he sat down next to them. “You’re not to bother them while they’re here.”  


“Yuuko-- you look amazing,” Yuuri beamed at her. “I haven’t seen you wear that yukata in such a long time--” He looked down at his own clothing, flushing a little. “I didn’t want to drag mine out and…” Her yukata was pale cream, with embroidered blossoms stitched into the fabric. It was appropriate for the day.

“And you didn’t want Yuri to feel left out, either,” she finished, smiling up at him. “Come and sit down, Yuri,” she patted the spot on the blanket. “We can’t talk to you when you’re so _tall_. You really grew up these past few years.”

He huffed and ran a hand through his hair. “Well, I mean-- I had to grow up at some point,” he smiled a little and he knew that she didn’t just mean his appearance. She had been kept appraised of his life over the last few years; he’d never stopped keeping in contact with her. When she had gone after him after the humiliating ending to the competition, it had meant a lot to him.  


“You did,” she gave him a knowing look as she helped Yuuri unpack the basket of food for all of them. “Did it interfere with your skating all that much?” She was all professional and curious, and there was none of that teasing in her voice that he’d already experienced with Yuri’s sister. “You’re quite a bit taller than you were during your senior debut.” They fell into a familiar talk of skating and competitions; Yuuko was all too eager to talk about Yuuri’s sudden growth spurt that had mangled his dancing and skating for weeks until he settled down. He’d hit puberty before Yuri had, even if he hadn’t gotten as tall as Yuri did in the end.

Yuri could now see why they had insisted to come early. The whole area was filling up with people; some in traditional clothing like Yuuko and the girls, some dressed more casually like him and Yuuri. “So all we do is just… watch the flowers?” he asked, brow furrowed in confusion.  


“There will be more later,” Yuuko promised with a laugh. “Singing-- my girls are going to be doing some of the dances, aren’t you?” she asked, frowning at them. This had apparently been a point of contention. “It’s not as cool as skating, but we’ll do it,” Axel huffed, with her sisters nodding along with her. “At least Mama said we can do our jumps like we’re practicing on the ice.”  


“In that clothing?” Yuri asked, half-fascinated and horrified at the same time.  
  
They all faced him with that familiar glint of determination in their eyes, hands on their hips. “Just you wait, Yuri Plisetsky,” they declared. “You may be great, but you haven’t seen what we can do yet.”  


He gave them a smirk in return, crossing his arms over his chest. “Bring it on, midgets,” he said, staring them straight in the eye. He knew they’d enjoy the challenge coming from him and he was honestly interested in seeing what they could do. They preened at his words, looking far too confident and pleased with themselves and Yuuri was laughing; not at them, but at the expression on Yuuko’s face. He knew that she had practically bribed them to do this and all Yuri had to do was issue a challenge and they didn’t even hesitate.

“Remember when we did that dance, Yuuri?” Yuuko asked with a laugh. “All that time practicing and all I wanted to do was go back and ice skate. I guess my girls take after me. You seemed to have fun, though.”  


“You dressed up all pretty and danced, Katsudon?” Yuri’s attention was suddenly on him and Yuuri flushed, waving his hand. “Not like the girls!” He protested. “The boys did their own thing, but Minako-sensei insisted that her class show off what they could do.”  
“Is there a video of this?” Yuri leaned closer. “Pictures?”  


“No and no, thank goodness,” Yuuri muttered. “Minako-sensei’s camera wasn’t working that day and I didn’t want to stay in that outfit for any longer than I had to. I couldn’t move as easily as I wanted to.” By that time, he’d been spending more time on the ice and the freedom of the movements skating had allowed him. Still not fully dedicated, but his heart was being lost more and more to ice skating as he grew older.

“I have a few,” Yuuko’s smile was wicked as Yuuri turned to her in dismay. “Yuuri, I could have hid a meal and a cup of tea in the sleeves of my kimono. Of course I was able to hide my phone.” She ruffled his hair. “I know I have the picture printed out at home, in my scrapbook.” She looked thoughtful. “I haven’t looked at them in years…”

Yuri had seen the few pictures at Yuuri’s house, but this would be different. All dressed up and probably looking pissed off? Yuri couldn’t _wait._ “We should look at them when we come over to skate,” he said, smile mischievous as Yuuri protested more. As his friend, Yuuko probably had the most important shot of Yuuri, taken when he was unaware of what was going on. He had a few of those himself and he knew Viktor had a phone full of them, most of them taken during that first year of coaching.

Takeshi was just shaking his head over the two of them, giving Yuuri a pat on the back in apology.

“Yuuko kept everything from when we were kids,” he said. “Good luck.”  


“I have pictures of you, too,” Yuuko shot back, but she was grinning and the atmosphere was relaxed and light and even Yuuri gave in and starting teasing the two of them. Even if they were so many years older than Yuuri; he was obviously close to them still.

Yuri only hoped that Yuuri wouldn’t decide to stay in Japan once the season ended; he was selfish enough that he didn’t want all these flowers and friendships and home-cooked meals going to Yuuri’s head and luring him away from Russia and the team at Yakov’s rink. To push himself away from those types of thoughts, he gave Yuuri a shove in the side. “Enough about the past,” he huffed. “We’ll get to embarrassing you later. Pass me some of that food your mom packed. I’m starving.”


	4. Chapter 4

The atmosphere was different from last night. Aside from the picnic and the sticky mochi that Yuuko pressed upon him, there were a lot of variance of foods to eat, packed away in large containers that fed all of them, even with the voracious appetite of the triplets. They claimed they needed the extra energy and had poked at Yuuri when he snuck another one of the mochi.

"Don't eat too much," Axel teased, but her tone was light-hearted and she distracted him while Lutz grabbed the treat from his hands, handing it over to Yuri. "We have to make sure Yuri eats as many as we can give him."

Yuri looked at it dubiously; this one was more doughy than the sticky rice and he took a hesitant bite and then relaxed as he tried not to eat it any faster than the triplets in front of him were. He wasn't a  _ kid _ anymore, he could slow down. This one tasted better and he didn't think there were any flowers shoved inside the paste inside.

"Strawberry," Yuuri's explained at his questioning look. "We have all sorts of flavors for the daifuku. "Blueberry and strawberry were my favorites," he grinned, "so Mom must have visited the bakery to get them ahead of time so that there would be enough for everyone, but we have the red bean ones, too—"

"…you like some weird stuff in Japan, Yuuri," Yuri snorted, but didn't even hesitate as he grabbed another. "You don't cook these?" It was soft and sweet and only slightly sticky and wasn't like anything at home.

"It's hard to explain," Yuuri said and his lips turned upward as he nibbled on one slowly. He'd promised himself he just have one of his favorites. "If my mom had the chance, she would have made something that you'd like, too—" He tilted his head back, letting the flowers fall over his face and nestle in his hair "Like  хворост or something. You know, I used to eat those in Detroit?" he asked. "There was a bakery that made them and they called them angel's wings. One of the girls in my class was from Russia and she'd special order them and then share with us during study groups."

Yuri raised an eyebrow. "You've never mentioned this before," he said, brushing the flowers from Yuri's hair with quick movements. "I actually like  _ making _ those. Not as good as piroshky, of course—but it's still an easy thing to make."

"When we get back home, we'll make them," Yuuri said decisively, turning into Yuri's hands without thinking about it. "We won't tell Lilia or Yakov, but sneak them to everyone else." His expression was filled with mischief and Yuri couldn't help but snort at Yuuri trying to be sneaky. He was glad that Yuuri had turned his attention to Yuuko at that moment when she questioned just what  хворост were, her voice tripping over the Russian. That meant he missed the look of pleased surprised on Yuri's face at Yuuri's phrasing of not only seeing Russia as home, but including him in that as easily as anything.

Yuri's attention was pulled away by a snatch of music and half-heard conversation and was caught off-guard when Yuuri was suddenly close to him. "Open up," he ordered and Yuri didn't even think before something was pressed to his mouth and the sticky texture of rice hit his senses first, followed by slightly bitter taste.

"I know you didn't poison me," he kept his voice casual as he turned to see Yuuri laughing at him. "But what the hell did you just feed me?" he demanded. "It felt like I was chewing on leaves."

"But was it bad?" Yuuri gave him an innocent look.

"No, but it was  _ weird _ ," Yuri muttered, "and you didn't even warn me." He crossed his arms against his chest, feeling grumpy that Yuuri got the better of him and managed to trick him into eating one of the weird foods for the festival.

"That was sakura mochi," Yuuko said helpfully, holding out the small piece of pink-hued rice with a green leaf wrapped around it. “Some versions come without the leaf, but I didn’t think it tasted the same without it.” She had the same look of bright mischief in her gaze and he knew that she had been part of the distraction for Yuuri to slip him the treat. 

“Hmph,” he scowled further, but dug into the basket for one of the cold cans of tea that Hiroko had packed to get the taste of leaves out of his mouth. “I knew your flower food would be weird, katsudon.” 

Yuuri gave an unapologetic shrug at that. “Some of it can be,” he laughed, “but no weirder than some of the food in Russia.” 

Yuri huffed at poked Yuuri in the side. “What’s weirder than eating leaves wrapped around rice?” he demanded. He wasn’t angry-- he was actually have fun, Yuuri teasing him and him turning the tables back just as easily. Even if it was only one day in, this was already one of the more relaxing downtimes in between a major competition. 

“ Кисель,” Yuuri didn’t even hesitate. “You tried to convince me to eat it straight, until Mila convinced me that it was better eaten over other desserts, which are  _ equally _ weird.”

“You just had your taste buds go dead after living in America for all those years,” Yuri smirked down at him. “You should know better by now after having good food.” He couldn’t help but relent, a little. “Although a lot of the food you have here is pretty good,” he admitted. 

“Mom will stuff you full of it if you let her,” Yuuri laughed, “but I told her that we’re under strict orders to keep it simple. This is a special treat,” he said quietly and there was something nervous about his expression for a moment, slipping away the next moment before Yuri could pin it down. “I know I’ll be skating the rest of the day to make up for it,” he teased. 

“Just don’t skate so much that you wear yourself out,” Yuri lectured, flicking Yuuri in the forehead, determined to shake away that sliver of anxiety that had bubbled to the surface. He regretted his words from when they first met still; it seemed that it had always been a spot for Yuuri that hung out in the corners of his mind. “You’ll twist something and then be out of the competition at World’s and  _ then _ who will I have to compete against?” he demanded. 

“I…” Yuuri opened his mouth, discarded a word and then shrugged, a smirk playing at the corner of his lips. “I heard JJ is doing better than ever, now that his new wife is expecting a kid.” His voice was as bland as possible. “He could probably give you a real run for your money.”

“That shithead is nowhere near our level,” Yuri snapped out automatically. He’d never warmed up to the Canadian skater and hoped he’d skate himself right out of the arena soon. The worst was when they were in JJ’s home area and the area had been littered with posters and screaming fans; most of them had been-- well, apparently not fans of his  _ skating _ , by the way they had been dressed. “He can stay at home and play his stupid music to bolster his own ego.” 

Yuuko caught Yuuri’s eye and winked “You know, it’s really popular to play English songs in some of the big cities?” she asked. “When Takeshi and I were in Tokyo the other week, we heard this “I’m the king” song. It was really catchy.” She hummed a few bars and Yuuri struggled to hold back his laughter at the look of outrage on Yuri’s face and he was obviously struggling not snap back an entirely impolite and not child-friendly response. 

The girls giggled and didn’t hold back, leaning against him and poking at the furrow in his brows from the scowl he was putting out. “Wow, you look like a really angry cat,” Axel laughed and Loop and Lutz snickered as well. “Like the fur is going to fly!”

“Or he’s going to hiss and growl,” Loop smirked and poked the top of his head and he batted at her hands, earning another bout of laughter at his unintentional action. “Where’s the flattened ears, kitty-cat?”

Yuri didn’t think that the overly ambitious girls could have gotten more aggravating over the intervening years, but it seemed that age only improved their accuracy in hitting the right buttons. He swatted at them lightly --  _ they were still kids, after all _ \-- and they dodged him with ease, even in the restricting kimonos they wore. 

“Too slow when you’re not on the ice,” Lutz taunted and when it looked liked she was about to say more, Yuuko hauled them all back with easy practice, stepping to her feet at the same time. 

“Time to go and stop bothering Yuri,” she said, as if she hadn’t been the instigator of the whole mess. “The dance starts soon and you’ll want to practice.” She smiled down at Yuuri. “Keep the place safe?” she teased. “I know Minako-sensei will be coming around soon, but I need to make sure the girls get to practice.”

Takeshi was holding one of the girls by the hand and grinned. “I’ve got to get down there as well, for the drums,” he boasted, then easily swung Lutz into his arms and held her on his shoulders. “Let’s make a proper entrance of it.” 

They were soon left alone and Yuuri looked down at the remains of the picnic-- still a good amount of food and treats and a bottle of sake. “... before the show, I’ll take this to their car,” he said, “so that we don’t leave it entirely unattended.” 

Yuri was still scowling after them, but his shoulders relaxed slightly. “You were right-- this isn’t as much as last night,” he said. He gave Yuuri a careful look, fingers curling around pale pink petals. “So they dance and I guess you go to that shrine?” He gestured to the one that he and Yuuri had gone to before, when Viktor was determined to bring out the best in them, with visits to the shrine and standing underneath waterfalls.

Yuuri smirked faintly, catching Yuri’s look. “Yeah-- we’ll go to the shrine. I used to go before all my performances,” he said softly. “Not to stand underneath waterfalls, no matter what Viktor thought,” he laughed. “I’d go to pray for luck and confidence to handle the upcoming competition. It was very peaceful for me.” 

“Why isn’t Viktor here?” Yuri asked curiously. “He’s your coach and one of your best friends and I know he loves this town.” He looked uncomfortable, his words halting and uncertain. “And I know your family loves him.” He saw Yuuri’s look of uncertainty and hastened to continue. “Not that I’m not glad you picked me over the old geezer, but--” His tone was questioning and something inside him hurt in its hope, as he waited for Yuuri’s answer. 

“If my coach came to me on my downtime,” Yuuri teased, “I know that I’d never actually stop practicing, if only not to disappoint him.” His expression turned more serious; Yuri knew that Viktor had been a close confidante, especially during that first year, even with the age differences. It obviously wasn’t just a case of ‘not having his coach’. Viktor was a  _ friend _ , like Yuri and Mila and Georgi were friends; like Phichit was Yuuri’s closest and oldest friend. There could have been so many more places or people that Yuuri could have spent his downtime with, no matter how close Yuri wanted to believe they had grown over the last couple of years. 

“Yuuri,” Yuri raised an eyebrow at that, barely looking around to make sure that nobody was too close to overhear their conversation. He’d learned during one trip to Tokyo that the most unexpected people had the best grasp of English and he had to have Yakov try and smooth over some uncomplimentary remarks that he had made when he had thought nobody was listening. 

“You’re my friend,” Yuuri said simply, not looking at Yuri and his hand was running over the basket of food, the small box of snacks and the sake bottle. At the last, Yuri smacked his hand away lightly and only smirked at Yuuri’s flustered look. “And--and even though we got off on a rocky start, I wanted to … to share this with you,” he said. 

There was something in his gaze that Yuri wasn’t sure how to define when Yuuri’s eyes met his own. He opened his mouth to respond, when an arm dropped around his shoulders and hugged him tightly. He had such a strong impression of Mila that he squawked in outrage and nearly hauled her over his shoulder, until his brain caught up with him when he realized the greeting shouted at him was in Japanese, not Russian. 

Yuuri’s expression changed and he made room for Minako on the blanket. “We wondered when you were going to get here,” he teased. 

“Hmph, I’m not like you kids, getting up at the crack of dawn anymore,” Minako huffed,switching to English. She ruffed Yuuri’s hair with one hand, smiling faintly. “At least, not when there isn’t a class in session. I stayed a little too late at the festival last night--”

Yuri hid his knowing smile, but Yuuri smacked him in the side anyway before he said anything, remembering their conversation last night as well. 

“You’re not leading the dance?” Yuri asked, edging away before she could touch his hair. “I thought that was your job-- the whole dancing thing.”

“... I teach  _ ballet _ ,” Minako laughed. “I’m flattered you think that I can teach all the dances, but no-- we have Atsuko-sensei who teaches the traditional dance. She’s been doing it for what.. .fifty years now?” She shook her head. “She taught  _ me _ those dances; she teaches both the boys and the girls and has been doing so for her entire career.”

“She has to be eighty now,” Yuuri shook his head. “I can’t imagine anyone else doing it in her place.” Atsuko-sensei had been a fixture for years; everyone went to her for traditional dance; she had studied it all her life; her entire family had kept it up for generations.

Yuri just shook his head at the idea of doing something until you were  _ that _ old. You certainly couldn’t figure skate for that long; your body would give up on you. Maybe ice dancing and shows for years after single competitions, but where was the fun when you weren’t showing your best  _ against _ the best?

“So are you two just here to relax before World’s?” Minako asked, already taking some of the sake, offering first to Yuuri, who just shook his head. “You know you can come to my studio. It’s not as fancy as Lilia Baranovskaya’s studio, but it works just fine. Doesn’t it, Yuuri?” she poked him in the side and he scowled faintly. There was a lot of poking today. If he ended up with a bruise, he wasn’t sure who he’d blame. 

“Yeah, your studio is great,” he said, smiling up her, It and the ice rink had been more of his home than anything else; Minako was the first one that taught him how to move his body with grace and poise. “If you wouldn’t mind, I’m sure Yuri and I could use it for some off-ice practice.”

Minako gave Yuri a critical once-over and he had a flash of Lilia and he held back his instinctive shudder. There was nothing of the happy-go-lucky personality there; he was dead serious in that moment; Lilia would have called her a ‘prima’ and in the back of his mind, he wondered if she and Lilia had ever crossed paths when Minako was in Russia. 

“I’ll check your form for you,” she said decisively, and Yuri could only nod in agreement. “I know you learned plenty from Lilia and she would be disappointed,” now she paused and grinned at him, “if you were to neglect any practice while you were in between competitions. You wouldn’t want that to happen, would you?”

Yuri shook his head quickly, imagining Lilia’s displeasure and Minako gave him a real smile. “And I’m sure that Yuuri found some ballet teacher out there, hm?” she asked, resting her chin in one hand. “It couldn’t be Lilia because  _ he would have told me _ , right?” she demanded. 

Yuuri winced at that. “I… it wasn’t right away,” he said, staring down at his hands. “I did a lot of it alone and at open day ballet studios, and then Lilia caught me one day.” He had been avoiding the imposing ballet teacher for several reasons, the least of which was not wanting to intrude upon Yuri’s time with his choreographer and teacher at all. He also had the sense from early on that Lilia was important to Yuri and when they were still at odds at the beginning of their working relationship, he hadn’t wanted to antagonize Yuri more. 

“Lilia lectured for a half hour,” Yuri said gleefully, leaning on Yuuri comfortably as he contributed to the story. “About how he had gotten sloppy and he wasn’t going to get any better if he just let himself study  _ on his own _ . Then she tried to bribe him to quit figure skating after that.”

“If I couldn’t convince him, no one could,” she gave Yuuri a fond look and he looked away, flushing. “But once he started skating, he couldn’t be swayed to stop at all. It was all we could do to keep him from pushing himself too far.”

When it looked like they were going to continue, Yuuri deliberately looked away towards the crowds and then visibly relaxed. “It looks like everyone’s moving,” Yuuri noted and there was a general stream of people in little packs, leaving their baskets and blankets. “Guess either practice went really well or  _ really _ bad,” he laughed. He began packing the items up in quick, efficient movements. 

“If those three are part of show, I wouldn’t be surprised if it ended in fire,” Yuri muttered under his breath. It really could go both ways; the girls were ambitious and driven, but he could see them running things, rather than being a part of it. 

Yuuri snickered and just shook his head, packing up the last of the items, taking the sake bottle from Minako and packing it away as well. He looked around at everything else being left behind and shrugged. “... I guess it’s fine,” he murmured, then stood up and held out his hand to Yuri at the same time.

They missed the flush that crossed both of their faces when their hands touched, but Minako didn’t and she smiled to herself as she followed the two of them down the slope to where the performance was being held. 

~

Nothing had been set on fire  _ or  _ destroyed at the performance and Yuri was willing to privately admit that it had actually been pretty impressive. He could see that it had to have taken a lot of control to perform the movements the way they did. Still, he was almost relieved to see everyone from the Ice Castle family back in what he considered normal clothes when they went to the rink.

He took a deep breath, letting the crisp air of the arena fill his lungs. This was where he belonged. Not necessarily at the Ice Castle; that would always be Yuuri’s home rink, no matter where he traveled, but being at  _ any _ ice rink.  Юбилейный was  _ his _ home rink, but here was good, too--here was Yuuri and the memories of his first senior competition. No matter how it had ended, it had given him a real taste of how  _ hard _ it was to compete on the senior level. No matter how much he had taunted Yuuri during his brief stay, Yuuri had been the one experienced with senior-level events; the stamina and strength involved in keeping it together during the requirements the program demanded. 

_ Maybe one day I’ll thank the old geezer for understanding that and giving me the extra help I needed to prepare me against skaters older than me.  _

Yuuri was already out on the ice and while Yuri had already teased him for it, it wasn’t as if he was waiting much longer to skate. Yuuko was giggling at the two of them, looking much more comfortable in her light jacket and comfortable clothes, even if her hair was still pulled back in the complicated looking hairstyle it had been in during the flower viewing. 

“Honestly,” she shook her head as Yuri finished lacing up his skates, making sure they were secure. “You two act as if the ice is going to run away on you if you don’t start skating as soon as you can. You tease Yuuri, but you’re really just as bad as he is.”

He shrugged and stood at the entrance to the ice, keeping a wary eye on Yuuri doing backwards figure eights, eyes closed and head tilted up to the ceiling. This rink wasn’t as big as the one back home and the last thing he wanted to do was misjudge the space and crash into Yuuri. “It’s …” he struggled to explain. “It’s like breathing,” he said, brows scrunched in confusion as he failed to articulate the words. “It’s where everything is.”

Even in practice, the ice felt like home-- he’d been skating since he was four and struggling to stay upright, determined to show his grandfather what he could do. 

“You and Yuuri are too much alike,” Yuuko shook her head. “Rain or shine, Yuuri would either be here or Minako-sensei’s studio, always practicing and throwing himself into trying harder. Sometimes, it wasn’t even the practice, just -- “ she smiled softly. “He said what you did. It felt comforting for him to skate, like he could release all his worries.”

“Now only if he could be like that during competitions,” Yuri muttered under his breath. Yuuri had gotten better over the years, but once he was in the top spot or skating first and realized all eyes were on him, his anxiety took over and he struggled in the intervening day between programs to focus. Yuri had stopped judging him for it, but he struggled to find an understanding of the right words to say to help him. 

“He’s getting there,” Yuuko patted his shoulder. “I can already tell he’s come a long way. You and the others must be a big help to him.” She looked over at Yuuri, who moved from figures to crossovers and Yuri deemed it was safe enough to go onto the ice, especially now that Yuuri’s eyes were open. “Thank you for coming here,” she said, voice softer so that Yuuri didn’t hear it. “I know he’s really happy to have you here.”

He flushed and just shook his head, but he couldn’t help but follow Yuuri’s movements on the ice. “I… I’m glad we become close enough friends that he wanted me here.” He wanted to say more, but the words stuck in his throat, along with the self-preservation that came from not blurting out all his secrets, especially to people that claimed they had his best interests at heart, but only seemed to have an unnerving ability to embarrass him. 

He mentally shuddered at the idea of Yuuko and Mila meeting, especially with the knowing smile that Yuuko gave him before giving him a little shove onto the ice. “Go on, now-- the rink really  _ is _ bigger than it looks.” She gave him a sly look and a parting shot just before he moved out of hearing. “Unless you just want to watch Yuuri’s butt while he does those sit spins.”

He gaped at her, not believing what he just heard, but she just gave him a cheery smile and a wave and moved to sit over in the bleachers, so that she could watch the both of them. The rink was officially closed for the day, so there wouldn’t be any customers coming by. They could both skate in peace.

_ Not that either one of us should be bothered by an audience, but practice is always different.  _ Practice was where you could try out things, make mistakes—relax and smile and be yourself, instead of making sure every step and turn and smile was perfect for the audience. 

Yuuri looked up at the sound of blades on ice, grinning widely. “Took you long enough,” he shook his head. “And here I thought you were actually the type to  _ not skate for _ the entirety of your downtime.” He moved from a sit spin to a parallel spin with ease, before relaxing his body back into more basic moves, skates biting into the ice and etching deep patterns. 

“Don’t trip over your skates,” Yuri taunted, moving into the basics of his own routine, even if his eyes were caught by how Yuuri kept upping the complexity of his, arms moving in concert with his skates, as if dancing to a song inside his head. He wouldn’t ever be as intricate as Yuuri was; but he could almost keep up with him now and it was sheer determination that let him get as far as he did.

“As long as you don’t fall on your ass when you try and do a quad,” Yuuri shot back. “I saw you trying the quad axel,” he said, moving into a spread eagle and then moving into layback and a series of twizzles, and then a half-Biellmann spin so fast that Yuri barely saw his hands and skates move to pull off the motion. 

“I’m going to be the first,” Yuri huffed, but he knew he was still far off from it. If he was being completely honest with himself,  _ Yuuri _ was closer to getting the quad axel, but he didn’t want to risk it-- not yet, at least. “So just you keep to your triple axel and leave the quad to me.”

“Wouldn’t it be a sight if both of us did it?” Yuuri laughed. “Not even at a competition-- “ He gave Yuri a mischievous look as he skated backward, looking for all the world like he was going to attempt it, before keeping it a triple.

“Don’t try anything stupid,  _ stupid _ ,” Yuri had to take a deep breath. It was all too easy to wreck yourself if you tried for a jump you weren’t prepared for, if you landed wrong--pulled a muscle. “Keep to your program.” 

“I won’t, Yuri,” Yuuri managed to look a little sorry, hands clasped behind his back as he moved into simple figures again. “This is the last major competition for months, I definitely don’t want to hurt myself before we skate at World’s.”

Yuri relaxed and skate close enough to squeeze Yuuri’s hand, biting his lip. “I know you have crazy things planned, but wait until I can see them live and you can surprise me with the rest of the world.” It was a given that every skater would pull out all the stops if they made it to World’s. They’d add more quads or combinations or anything to make every performance before look like just the warm up to the grand finale. 

Yuuri blinked up at him, then stared down at their hands, before entwining their fingers together. “I promise, you’ll be completely surprised by my performance,” he said, voice quiet. “Make sure you watch every last moment.”

Yuri nodded, giving Yuuri’s hand a quick squeeze before pulling away, a cocky grin on his face. “Even if it’s just to make sure that I can see how to best kick your ass when my routine comes up.” He crossed his arms over his chest and if he heard faint giggling from the stands where he knew not just Yuuki was now watching, but her entire family, he let it go. “Because you know I’m going to be first all around.”

“You mean, you’re going to be  _ last _ at some point?” Yuuri feigned shock. “Don’t put yourself at the bottom just to make sure people have something to beat, Yuri.”

“No!” Yuri scowled at him, outraged at the very implication, but he couldn’t help but smirk at little at the sass that Yuuri was dishing out. It was far different than the first time they had skated together; then Yuuri had been confident in his own ability to  _ win,  _ even if he had been intimidated by Yuri. “I’m going to be the last to skate, so I can make  _ sure _ I know what scores to beat.” 

“Fight me for it,” Yuuri laughed and it devolved from there; both of them trying outdo each other with snippets of their programs, with old moves from previous years and once Yuuko had goaded them into it, the first programs they had skated against each other--but Yuri doing Eros this time and Yuuri embracing Agape.

Yuuko had promised that the video that the triplets had took of it all would wait to go up until  _ after _ World’s. 

Still--there was still more than a week until they had to fly out to the arena and meet up with their respective coaches. Yuri was certain he could and and Yuuri  _ would _ spend the entire time skating against each other in a rivalry that had nothing attached to it, Yuuri  _ had  _ promised that there would be more to this trip than flowers and skating. 

  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So apologies for any mistakes with the figure skating! I really know very little and tried to get imagsome words to go with the imagery I'm familiar with from performances. Thanks to [Axon-a](http://archiveofourown.org/users/axona/pseuds/axona) for some advice on the movements, removing some and rearranging others. 
> 
> In regarding Japan : A lot of what I write is from my own memories of the time I lived in Japan. I lived in a _much_ smaller town that Hasetsu is shown to be, but I loved it, it's so very dear to me -- and I did travel all over the place as well, I'm excited to get the boys traveling, too, which will be in the next chapter. 
> 
> As always, thank all of you for reading! It makes me super happy to know that this silly little fic is liked.


	5. Chapter 5

In Yuri’s mind, they left at an unreasonably early hour from the station, but Yuuri assured him that he could at least sleep on the train; the seats were so comfortable and it was also essential to get into Tokyo at a decent time of day. 

“You don’t want to get to the city and find everything’s closed, right?” he asked, amused. “Even if Tokyo has stuff running all night, the kind of stuff we want to go to is open during the daytime.”   
  
“What, you don’t want to hit the Tokyo bars at night and get drunk?” Yuri elbowed him as they got onto a more spacious train than he had coming in, one of the staff members taking one look at Yuri and offering to show him to his seat, using crystal clear English. 

Yuuri gave him a flat look of disbelief at him even making the suggestion and he turned a little red at the woman that understood their conversation, wondering what she was thinking about him. “Do you even want to see what would happen?” he asked. “I don’t care how much you and Mila and Viktor try, I am  _ not _ instigating a repeat of what happened at Sochi. Not in  _ any _ form.”

“Not even the dancing?” Yuri smirked. “I have to admit, blackout drunk, you did a better job than anybody. What would happen if you tried skating that way?”

Yuuri shuddered, settling into his seat and accepting the pillow from attendant, handing one to Yuri. “I’d probably trying to do a spiral and end up slicing my hands on my blades,” he winced at the very thought. “I don’t need to get  _ drunk _ to skate well.”   
  


“But it might be so entertaining for everyone else,” Yuri snickered, leaning forward. “Give a whole new meaning to a routine on the ice.”

Yuuri smacked him with his pillow and the conversation devolved into discussing the various disaster skating routines done by various skaters, both in ice shows and in serious competitions. 

~

Yuuri was making sure that he snagged Yuri along with him as they exited the train; it was all too easy to get stuck behind the mass of people. It wasn’t like Hasetsu at all; this train line was more popular. They had departed the Shinkansen to take a more local train and more like the one he took to Hasetsu with stops more frequent along the way. “You’ve been in Tokyo before, right?” he asked. 

Yuri nodded, letting Yuuri drag him out of the mess of people and into a slightly less crowded street. “Yeah-- for the NHK,” he shrugged. “Didn’t really go and sightsee much, though… was too busy training.” He looked around, it wasn’t as cozy looking of an area as Hasetsu was and the crowds were filled with people moving with purpose. It didn’t look all that exciting of an area, though; none of the streets that were filled with big shops.

There were cherry blossom trees here, too-- but these ones had barely bloomed and the soft white and pink of the blossoms were more on the trees than on the ground. It was still nice, though and several people had stopped to take pictures. Yuuri caught his look and shrugged. 

“Different blossom times,” he said easily. “There’s a whole prediction set up for when the trees are going to bloom and Tokyo is a little later than in Saga. After World’s are over, you’ll probably see it peak more--then you’ll really have people all the place here.” 

He led them on a meandering path, along tree-lined streets and convenience stores, shops that sold watches and cafes with all sorts of enticing smells coming from them. HIs stomach rumbled and hoped that wherever Yuuri had planned for them to go so early in the morning, it had food. When he spotted the temple, he groaned.  _ If he makes me go there for some ‘get spiritual’ bullshit, I’m going to smack him.  _

They passed by it, though and Yuuri was smiling to himself--his eyes soft and  _ oh _ . Yuri hadn’t seen the look on his face very often and he had to laugh softly. He usually only got that look when it came to ice skating and he wondered just what Yuuri was searching for that gave him that same look. “So where are we going?” he asked, noticing the looks he got, but pushing it out of his mind. 

“You’ll see,” Yuuri grinned back at him. “I want it to be a surprise-- I think you’ll like it, though.” He sounded confident about it and Yuri had to wonder just what was it in this area of Japan that made Yuuri so eager to show him? It didn’t take too long, going through winding streets, old architecture sandwiched between glossy buildings. “Close your eyes,” he ordered, standing in front of Yuri as if his shorter stature could shield him.

Yuri scowled, but Yuuri looked so eager that he sighed and did as was requested, grumbling the entire time. “This better not be the museum of katsudon or something,” he muttered, letting Yuuri drag him along. There was a rush of cooler air and then the vibrations of an elevator moving upward. 

“I don’t even think there is a museum for that,” Yuuri sounded more amused than anything. “I mean, there’s a lot of odd places out there-- Phichit dragged me to the strangest things when we were in America…” he babbled on and only fell silent when the elevator stopped with a pleasant ding and some sort of message in Japanese. 

“Okay-- you can open them.” Now there was a hint of nervousness in his voice and Yuri opened his eyes and then his jaw dropped. “What on…” There were cats everywhere in the room, people nestled among soft cushions with cats sleeping near them or on top of them. 

“It… it’s a cat cafe,” Yuuri said quietly. “This one’s-- it’s really nice. They rescue cats from all over the place and give them a home.” The staff was already moving forward and had a rapid discussion in Japanese, Yuuri paying with a bright smile. “What do you think?”

“I---” Yuri was speechless. “This is so cool,” he said, eyes bright as he looked around. “Where did you find this?” he demanded. 

Yuuri grinned. “They’re really popular these days--I should tell you about the cat islands one of these days,” he took off his shoes, nudging Yuri to do the same, both of them putting on the cafe’s slippers. “Once you find out how I found this  _ particular  _ cafe, you’ll probably hit me, though.” He looked unconcerned at the thought of impending violence and the pure mischief in his expression set up a sense of foreboding. 

He noticed several of the staff members poking each other, whispering excitedly as stepped into the main area, immediately falling into a comfortable sprawl, watching the cats out of the corner of his eye. It didn’t take long for one to wander up to him, sniffing his hand, before butting his head against Yuri’s side. 

Yuuri watched him, enjoying the way that Yuri relaxed completely in the presence of cats. He knew that he had to be missing his Potya, but he wasn’t the type to drag her off on a long plane ride, either. He loved that soft smile that Yuri wore when his guard was completely down. It almost made him not want to give him the other part of the ‘surprise’. 

“Is that really Yuri Plisetsky?” The woman who ran the cafe peered closely and Yuuri laughed and nodded. “Ah, I always hoped that I could see him in person. He is always surrounded by cats. You can tell he cares for them.” 

“Yeah, his fans keep up the theme,” Yuuri grinned, “like I’ve seen you have on your menu…” 

She didn’t even blush, but instead looked pleased that he pointed it out. “He’ll have to tell us what he think of it,” she said. “We studied the recipe--Aiko does all sorts of baking and she wanted to try her hands on it…”

“I’m sure it’ll be amazing,” he reassured her and she patted his hand before hurrying back to the kitchen to get one of the deserts that the cafe offered. Yuuri went over to Yuri, nudging him over. “Here, relax at the table,” he urged. “They’re bringing us and the cats some food and you can’t eat it sprawled all over the floor.”

“Hmph, the cats are comfortable,” he muttered, but since they weren’t actually  _ on _ him, he moved enough to the table, one of the cats following him and slumping against his side, butting his leg and giving a demanding meow.

Yuri smiled again, stroking behind the cat’s ears gently, before looking up when the small cakes were placed in front of him. There was a cat design on the top of his and… his eyes narrowed at the little placard that came along with the the cake, tracing over the English characters. “Oh, you’ve got to be kidding me,” he said, not sure if he should be outraged, flattered or amused. 

Yuuri gave him a wicked grin. “You don’t like  ptichye moloko?” he asked. He wasn’t even trying to hide  _ his  _ amusement. “I thought it was one of your favorite cakes.”

“I… I like the cake, but-- the  _ name _ , katsudon. Did you tell them to name a f…” he swallowed his curse, realizing that it wouldn’t be polite in the least and judging by the looks that the staff was givin him as they peeked over the counters, they wanted to see his reaction. “Was this your idea?”

Yuuri shook his head in denial. “No! They’re just apparently fans of figure skating and when they saw your skating and all the cat stuff ….” he shrugged. “They wanted to honor you with a treat, even if they didn’t think you’d ever come to this small cafe.” The ‘Fairy Cat’’ certainly looked light and airy. 

“I-- but I’m not--” The tips of his ears were red as he looked down at the cake and then back at the staff and he managed a smile, before snapping a picture of the cake, careful to leave the flash off, especially when his new companion rose up on her legs to see what the fuss was all about. 

“You donate a lot to cat shelters,” Yuuri said quietly. “They appreciate that-- someone so famous, taking care of something like cats. They’ve spent their whole life working towards saving countless cats.”

“Still,” Yuri looked confused, cautiously poking a fork into the cake and taking a bite. His entire expression lit up at the taste. “ _ You’re _ the one national hero or something,” he waved a hand. 

“That’s only in my hometown,” Yuuri protested. “Out in Tokyo, I’m just another figure skater and we’re not all that impressive, not with other sports like baseball. Most people don’t even know a lot of the events and stuff.” 

“Hmph,” Yuri had a feeling Yuuri was underestimating himself again; even if there were a few more skaters from his country now-- there had to be, for Japan to go to Worlds, he was still one of the more impressive ones. 

“Tell them thanks,” Yuri muttered, the tips of his ears red as he took another bite. He was carefully eating the small desert, not wanting to ruin the flavor or enjoyment of it by scarfing it down, like he would have when he was younger. 

Yuuri nodded and absently reached down to pet a cat that nuzzled him, winning that unexpected smile from Yuri again. He knew that this had been a good idea. 

They spent a good portion of the morning petting the cats and taking pictures with them and the staff. Yuuri acted as a translator between them, since they refused to use English with the excuse of ‘they weren’t very good, what if we say the wrong thing’? Yuri took more pictures than anybody; most of the cats and one set of Yuuri being mobbed by a group of cats when he held out the chicken treats. 

The only people that followed figure skating was the staff and Yuuri was just grateful for the small blessing of that. Yuri got a lot of curious looks and once or twice a teenage girl came up and stared at him intently, then giggled and darted off again.

“What the hell is it with teenage girls in your country?” he demanded. “That one tried to pet my hair like I was one of the cats. And what was she  _ saying _ ?”

Yuuri was waving a piece of feather in front of a cat that was round as a ball and had bright green eyes. “She said your hair was ‘so very pretty’ and ‘golden and soft’.” He grinned at him. “Blond hair isn’t all that usual here, you know. Even with tourists all over the place, it’s still pretty startling to the kids.”

“Don’t tell me that you stared at people like they were in a zoo,” Yuri huffed under his breath, eyeing the girl uncertainly, as if she was going to come back for another round. 

“No, because Minako-sensei dragged me to international competitions since I was seven,” he said dryly. “And I’d rather face down Yakov with badly laced skates than Minako-sensei when she’s disappointed for being impolite.”

“I didn’t think she had it in her,” Yuri rolled his eyes. “She’s so much nicer than Lilia,” he pointed out. “Lilia will stare at you and you’d think you crawled in from a beginner’s class.”

“You haven’t seen what Minako is like  _ teaching _ ,” Yuuri gave a dramatic shudder and Yuri snorted, shoving him lightly. “She trained without mercy. Do you think someone who got the Benois de la Danse by being  _ soft? _ ” 

Yuri thought about it and then shuddered. “Okay, maybe you’re right and that teacher of yours was as bad as Lilia and you had her for longer than I had Lilia as my teacher.” 

“Well, she taught me all my choreography and was my coach until Celestino found me,” he said, “so toughness was a good thing.” He looked thoughtful at that, the toy resting at his side down and the cat taking that as a cue to pounce on said hand and roll away, making little growling sounds. 

Yuri chose that moment to take another picture, grinning the entire time. 

~

Yuri got his revenge later that day when they got off another station, this time more crowded than the last, filled to the brim with tourists. It was busier than he remembered it being. But like he had told Yuuri, the last time he was here, he’d pretty much stayed at the rink and the hotel. 

“It’s too damn busy here,” he muttered. He looked around while they waited for the light to change and when his eyes landed on a large banner-- hell, it couldn’t be called a poster, it was  _ gigantic _ , on the side of building, he started laughing so hard that they missed the light and the sea of people poured around them. 

“So, you’re saying you’re not a big deal?” he asked, after he recovered and Yuuri pulled him to the side, garnering more than one startled and confused look. 

“I-- yeah I mean- especially since we have all of us as a team coming up…” his voice trailed off as Yuri directed his gaze to the larger than life poster that featured him. Yuuri immediately turned bright red and huddled in his jacket, covering his face with his hands. “Oh my god,” he whispered. “They didn’t say they were doing this--” It was worse than the ones in Hasetsu; this was in  _ Tokyo _ .

“Russia’s going to crush Japan,” Yuri said confidently, momentarily distracted by the thrill of the upcoming competition. “You’ve got that squirt on your side for men’s singles and I don’t know who else with the others. We’ve got  _ Yakov’s _ team.” He beamed, proud of that. 

“Yakov teaches pairs now?” Yuuri asked, wide and innocent, even if he was trying to avoid looking at the giant poster. He grabbed Yuuri down a random side street, this one with  _ old _ architecture and Yuri blinked back at the city, then down at the street they were on. “I didn’t know he had it in him.”

“No, he doesn’t teach  _ pairs _ , but the singles--we’ve obviously got the best.” He poked Yuuri in the side. “You should switch sides to Russia, katsudon. That way we’d be unstoppable.”

Yuuri snorted and shook his head. “Just because I’m getting coached by Viktor with the occasional helping below from Yakov, doesn’t mean that I’m part of Team Russia.” 

“You mean that the JSF would cry and cling to your feet if you tried to leave, if that sign is any indication,” Yuri smirked. “What is that for, anyway?” he asked, curious. 

“They’re promoting a new line of clothing,” Yuuri muttered, face burning. “I know Viktor said something about some sort of sponsors being interested and how he had a surprise, but--” he let out an incredulous laugh. “I don’t think he expected me to see it before he could tell me about it.” 

“... that old man needs to learn how to communicate,” Yuri huffed, even if he was still snickering. “Although, maybe I should thank him. Your reaction was pretty damn funny.” He gestured in the pose that was in the poster. “How did you get away with that picture when you didn’t know what was going on?”

“VIktor said it was for a portfolio he wanted to give to prospective sponsors,” he muttered. He had spent several hours posing and Viktor grabbing outfits left and right, dressing him up like a giant doll. He had wanted to ‘show the best side of him’, especially since Yuuri had really taken off and stopped “dragging his feet” in terms of skating prowess.

“You’re an idiot,” Yuri just rolled his eyes. “So why are we in Tokyo?” he asked. “Other than that cat cafe, I mean, it’s not like we have to check out the rink, we’ve both been there before.” He raised an eyebrow.

Yuuri shrugged. “I mean, sure you could wander around Hasetsu for the entire time, but there are more interesting things around Japan than just my hometown. You’ve said you’ve never really done sightseeing and I  _ know _ there’s a bunch of stuff that you’d like to see.”

“Yeah, well--I’m not like Viktor, wanting to see and buy everything in sight,” Yuri huffed. “Didn’t you guys wander all over the hell in Barcelona that first year?” he asked. “I .. wouldn’t you be bored seeing the same thing that you’ve seen before?”

“Trust me, Tokyo evolves faster than  _ you _ do, Yuri. There’s is always going to be something interesting to see.” He took Yuri’s hand again, not looking at him as he did so, pulling him along easily. 

“Yeah-- I can tell,” Yuri eyed the wooden buildings, preserved and with businesses still run inside of them.

“Hush, that’s part of the history of Japan,” Yuuri grinned. “Why get rid of something so important? It’s not just the temples and historic homes. It’s the little things, too.” He noticed that Yuri hadn’t let go of his hand and he kept his little smile to himself. 

~

It was about mid-day and Yuri was actually getting antsy; he’d learned some other things about Yuuri that hadn’t been obvious. Even if he had been training with him for the last two years, Yuuri still kept some things private.  _ Like the fact that he’s a massive nerd when it comes to video games.  _

He teased him relentlessly about the stores they went to and gaped at some of the prices for what looked like worthless merchandise. “Skates cost as much as some of this shit,” he gave Yuuri a disbelieving look. “When did you suddenly get so rich that you can consider some of this?”

“I’m only looking,” Yuuri laughed. “I already know it’s expensive, but it’s neat to see what they have out…” He eyed Yuri and smirked faintly. “Although I know of some places that you would like in terms of random things--” 

It was all too easy to find clothing that suited Yuri’s style; small items for gifts and even a stuffed tiger toy that he’d nearly backed back into somebody when he saw it displayed in the shop. “Don’t you dare tell Viktor or Mila about this,” he threatened. 

Yuuri held up his hands. “Wouldn’t think of it.” They were nearing one of the public sports arenas and he looked wistfully up at it. “I want to skate, but the idea of skating in rented skates…” he shuddered a little and Yuri had the same sentiment. They had enough with them to stay overnight in Tokyo, but they weren’t about to carry their kit bag with them. Skates were far too expensive to risk being stolen while sightseeing.

“When did we get so spoiled?” He was half-speaking to himself, but Yuuri shrugged. “I skated with rentals for years on end when training, until my parents managed to get me a pair that was just for me. It was my ‘big gift’ that you usually get when you become an adult. My parents just gave me mine early. I never realized the difference they made until I was able to nail my routines using them.”

“Ugh, yeah-- Grandpa bought me my first pair and they weren’t even top of the line, but better than shitty rental skates that everyone else has used and fucked up.” Yuri had a lot of words for first time skaters that dug into the ice so bad that was like they were trying to carve their names. 

“And now you’re with unique skates that cost more than a house,” Yuuri teased. “Carbon composite blades and you had to go with the one of a kind black blades” 

“They don’t cost  _ that _ much,” Yuri protested, but he was smiling. “And they’re not flashy gold like  _ some _ people. When I first saw those skates, I knew that I had to have them. I did my first thing with sponsors to get the money for them.” He shuddered a little. “I’m pretty sure it involved candy of some sort, but I blocked it out of my memory.”

“That embarrassing?” Yuuri grinned. “I… I never thought about sponsors that much, I mean… my first was with a local skating goods store. My parents got the skates from there and I wanted to show my thanks. Celestino chose various people after that and Viktor does most of the work now.” He flushed a little. “I still get nervous talking to them and I’m always afraid they’re secretly wondering ‘why should we support him’” 

“I hope you’re not thinking that  _ now _ ,” Yuri rolled his eyes. “Sponsors like skaters that win gold medals like you’ve done. Silver is good, too-- even bronze gets a few vultures and you’ve been to the Grand Prix every year for the past three years.”

Yuuri shrugged and gave him a faint smile. “Sometimes I think back to that first Grand Prix, but--” 

“You had your reasons,” Yuri cut him off and then looked back towards the sports center again and then shrugged. “Well, come on, then-- an hour or so of skating on rentals won’t kill us, even if our coaches might when they find out.” He shared a conspiratorial grin with Yuuri. “I won’t tell if you won’t.”

Yuri was going to take the opportunities as they came; private moments that he was building up. Trying to show Yuuri when the words were too awkward to articulate that he understood more than he could explain.


	6. Chapter 6

Yuri leaned closer while Yuuri talked to the people at the counter; it seemed to be taking longer than he thought it would to get crappy skates. “What’s the hold up?” he demanded. “I know they haven’t run out of skates.”

Yuuri shook his head and Yuri noticed the tips of his ears were red. “They offered to get us skates that were new,” he said carefully, keeping his voice low, “since we’re such important skaters.”

“Bullshit,” Yuri said quickly. “I’m pretty sure it was all about you or else you wouldn’t be so embarrassed. But go on-- what’s the catch?” He smirked when the red spread to Yuuri’s cheeks. “I know thee has to be something else involved.”

He tugged Yuri to the side, after a quick explanation to the guy behind the counter that they would be back in a moment. “They want us to sign the skates,” his voice squeaked at the end. “To display in the rink,” he covered his face with his hands. “They said they would be honored if we would do such a thing and--” 

“What are they going to do, just put them in a glass box or something to get business to come here?” He gestured broadly. “I don’t think they need it. This place is disgustingly packed and it’s not just the rink.”

“No, they want to auction them off for charity,” Yuuri gaze flicked down and away from Yuri. “I mean-- I don’t mind signing something for them if they really want it, but I also don’t want them to get their hopes up if they don’t get a lot of money for some skates…” 

Yuri’s look towards him was incredulous. “Do you need to see that giant-ass poster of yourself outside again?” he demanded. “They were probably tripping over themselves when you walked in,” he snorted. “God, katsudon. Have a little more faith in yourself.” 

Yuuri made a face, rubbing a hand through his hair. “You may be used to fame and being overall amazing, but I’m still getting used to it,” he muttered. Yuri opened his mouth to protest; Yuuri had always been a fantastic skater, he was just too dense to realize it and really let himself go to exceed his already high abilities. “Alright, you may have a point-- I mean--” he stuttered over his words and Yuri gave him a triumphant smirk and dragged him back to the counter before Yuuri could ruin the moment with any more self-deprecating comments. 

Yuuri gave the workers behind the counter a shy smile; they looked incredibly hopeful and it was almost startling. “I… I we’ll sign the skates,” he said softly, “but-- we can’t skate in brand new ones.” He and Yuri exchanged a look. The offer was tempting, to use skates no one else had worn to pieces, but when it was so close to a competition, it would kill their feet and ruin their chances of a clean skate for Worlds. Nothing was worth that. “Do you have-- less worn skates, but not brand new?” He had already given them their sizes and he hoped there would be something that would work for their needs. 

There was a hushed whispering and after a moment of discussion, one of the workers went into the back and returned with several sets of skates. The new ones; stiff and gleaming, blades sharp. The other set looked barely used; the edges hardly worn and obviously well-taken care of and the leather softened. 

“These have barely been worn and only by one person,” the man explained with a smile. “It’s important for you, yes?” he asked, earning emphatic nods in return. One other person wasn’t as bad as more than a dozen in a day and heads and tails better than brand new skates that would give them blisters more violent than regular practice. 

Yuuri reached for the new skates at the marker that was handed to him, hesitating slightly. “It’s really what you want?” he asked and the man nodded quickly, a bright smile spreading across his features. 

“Please, Katsuki-san,” he said. “We’ve been fans of your skating since you were fifteen and never had the chance to see you skate in person. This is my dream come true.”

Yuuri knew that Yuri was giving him a smug, knowing look at the man’s words. Even if he couldn’t understand all of what was being said, the tone was obvious and Yuuri promised himself that even if Yuri begged, he wouldn’t translate for him. He instead signed the skates, bowing slightly and with a happy smile. 

He didn’t even need to to hear the sound of the photo being taken to know what Yuri was doing. 

~

The rink  _ was _ crowded, but there was still enough room to move around in easily, without worrying that they were going to run into anybody. The two of them dodged novice skaters with easy, moving away from the wall and the ones that clutched along the boards for balance. 

“It’s kind of nice, just skating again,” Yuuri mused, even if his normal skating was anything but simple movements. It wasn’t even him trying or outright habit, but years of muscle memory that moved his skates into certain patterns. “We don’t really do it that much, do we?” he asked. The fit of the skates was still not the best and he could already feel the difference, but it wasn’t as bad as it could have been. 

“No,” Yuri tried to think back to the last moment that he just  _ skated _ , without worrying about training or programs; about the music that fit or how his body was going to strain itself to the limits. He couldn’t  _ look _ at other skaters without quietly assessing them, seeing their strengths and weaknesses and it wasn’t just fellow competitors. Even when their home rink had the public hours, he’d watch and try and figure out which kids were going to rise up through the ranks and present a challenge years down the road. 

There were a few of those scattered about the rink; most of them near the center and with fierce looks of concentration on their faces. Yuri nudged Yuuri and smirked. “I bet they’re fans of yours,” he teased. “You should say hello.”

Yuuri looked at where he was pointing and rolled his eyes. “They’re Minami’s fans,” he said, voice matter of fact. “Look at their  _ hair _ .” 

There was one of two of the boys that had bright red streaks in their hair and Yuri smirked. “You’re right, they’re just right for the midget. Too flamboyant to be one of yours.”

“Not every fan of skating in Japan is  _ my _ fan,” Yuuri huffed. “Especially not with Worlds...there are people that are just fans of the female skaters or the pairs--” He eyed Yuri. “I  _ know _ there is a legion of fans just for Mila that hardly even register you when you’re in the same room as her.”

“Yeah, she’s got all sorts of fans,” Yuri conceded, but he was still grinning. “But she doesn’t have a larger-than-life poster of her hanging in the middle of St. Petersburg, either.”

“You’re not going to let that go, are you?” Yuuri asked, pausing long enough to help up a girl that had fallen to the ice. He kept a grip on her hands, giving her an encouraging smile and focusing on her for the moment. 

“That’s it, a little bit at a time. You don’t need to rush.” He kept his eyes training on hers, letting her get the rhythm of skating back. “Find your balance. Come on, straighten up,” he teased gently. Yuri followed next to them, skating backwards for a pace before turning again.

“I want to skate like him,” the girl whispered, indicating Yuri. “How does he do it so easily? He’s as graceful as Ishida Mitsuko.” She looked up at him, beaming as Yuuri hid a smile at hearing such praise given both to the girl that was his teammate for Worlds and Yuri. “Do you know she was chosen to represent Japan for Worlds?”

Yuuri kept his voice and face serious. “Yeah-- she’s pretty incredible, isn’t she?” he asked. He had nothing but admiration for Mitsuko and knew she had a good chance of scoring high with the routines she had planned. 

The girl nodded and finally seemed steady enough to let go of his hands, meeting up with a group of her friends, who helped to support her instead of Yuuri. He winked and moved back towards Yuri, who was directing one of the skaters that was clinging onto the edge how to balance properly. 

“Wow, Yuri,” Yuuri kept his voice as bland as possible. “I didn’t know you wanted to coach so early on in your career. Are you trying to beat Viktor in that, too?” 

Yuri shot him a dirty look, but the boy didn’t understand a word. Yuuri had purposely used Russian. “You would know,” he huffed. “You were the one leading your fangirl around--” he focused back on the boy. 

“No, no!” he waved his hands, using the cobbled together Japanese that Yuuri had taught him in exchange for Yuri teaching him Russian. “Stand tall, don’t lean over.” He tried to demonstrate. “The ice supports you.”

Yuuri watched with interest. “Did you just grab a random kid or did he actually ask for help?” he asked idly. “I mean, I can see it going either way.” This time Yuri waved a hand at him, smacking him in the side, but it only caused Yuuri to laugh. 

“He fell into me when he was trying to skate away from the wall, but he was staring at the ice like it was going to jump up and grab him.” Yuri muttered, looking vaguely annoyed, but when he switched back to the kid, he was less annoyed and more straight-forward, giving him instructions in a quick, brusque tone. He was trying to remember his first lessons, when his mother took him out skating. 

Yuuri just grinned. “Don’t traumatize anyone,” he lectured, before skating off towards another clump of skater, oblivious to the stares that the first group was giving him. Even if the girl he helped hadn’t recognized him, her friends had and there were looks ranging from awe to outright disbelief. 

Yuri finally got the kid to stand on his own and with the strict order to “not move for a few minutes”, even if it meant kids were skating around the stunned kid. He met up with Yuuri and shook his head. “Why are half of these people  _ here _ if they’re scared to do anything but hug a wall?”

“Everyone has to start somewhere,” Yuuri pushed Yuri out to the center, away from the newcomers and ones that had more fun watching and trying to be a part of something. “I’m sure you were just as entertaining as a kid.”

“Yeah, but I was a  _ kid _ ,” Yuri muttered, scowling and then his shoulders slumped. “But probably none of these guys want to be as batshit crazy as we’ve been all our lives. They can just have fun.”

“And that’s what we’re supposed to be doing now,” Yuuri said firmly. “Used skates and crowded rinks and all. We can talk with fans about the different teams and who they think their favorite skaters are. The girl I was helping likes my teammate, Mitsuko.” He gave him an amused grin. “Even if you stick out like a firework at night, we can just pretend to be ordinary people for a little while.”

~

“I swear, Yuuri. The next place you take me to better have actual food. I'm starving.” They had managed to leave the rink with no autographs other than the ones they had given the staff. Yuri had been apprehensive that the Angels would have sniffed him out, lying in wait before the competition began. 

Yuuri only laughed at the way Yuri growled at him. “You didn’t like the little snacks we had?” he asked. 

“We’ve been skating for hours and we only had that cake at the cafe,” Yuri eyed him. “I know you’re trying to be careful or something, but if I find you ‘trying to keep your weight down’ involves skipping entire meals in favor of random snacks, I am going to pin you to the ground and force feed you.”

“In public?” Yuuri’s eyes went wide. “I thought we moved past the stage of being violent around strangers. You only get that forceful in private.”

_ That _ earned a blush and a sputter, especially when a couple and their kid walking gave them an incredulous look, covering the ears of their child. Yuuri seemed to realized what he had implicated a moment later and his face turned bright red. 

“I-- no-- not like that, I meant--” he waved his hands frantically in denial, but Yuri only snickered and poked him in the side. 

“Let’s just go, katsudon,” he laughed. “I’m starving and I know you’ve probably got a ton of other stuff planned.” His grin said that he wasn’t about to let it go, but he’d wait to pick his moment. 

Yuuri rubbed at his cheeks, trying to get the heat to cool down from it and pushed Yuri in front of him. “You can see a place right up ahead,” he pointed out. “I remember it being pretty decent. Tempura and karage and ramen-- bunch of other stuff.”

“Katsudon?” Yuri asked slyly, not even pretending as if he wasn’t teasing Yuuri in this, too, even when Yuuri shrugged at the question. “You mean, you haven’t scouted out all the places that serve a halfway decent katsudon? I am  _ shocked _ .” 

“...it’s been awhile since I’ve really been in Tokyo,” Yuuri shrugged and looked away. “And when I was here, it was like for you--for NHK or some other local competitions.” His voice was quieter. “I only had my mother’s katsudon after I won a competition. Any other place didn’t seem right.”

“Huh---guess you’re eating a lot of it recently, then,” Yuri said idly. Over the past three years, Yuuri had won more competitions than lost. It helped that he had an excellent coach and choreographer; one that genuinely cared for him and was deeply invested in pushing Yuuri past his limits. Viktor was said to be a lot of things, but when he was determined to do something, he did it all the way. “Getting tired of it?” he teased. “You could lose a few more, you know. Make the rest of us look better.” 

“As if you’d let me get away with doing something stupid like that,” Yuuri shot back, pausing in front of the restaurant, examining the dishes that were displayed in the glass window. “You’d end up kicking me  _ through _ a wall this time, and not just through the doors of a rink or a bathroom stall.” 

Yuri leaned close to him, eyes taking it in. “That’s not real food, is it?” he asked, a little shocked. “They wouldn’t just … leave it out there?” There were no bugs and nothing seemed to be wilted or falling apart, but…

“No, no-- just wax,” Yuuri laughed. “So you can see exactly what you’re getting in a meal.” He pointed out the different items; the unagi or or the hamburger steak, the omurice-- the tempura and rice and a variety of other dishes. “Does any of it look good?”

“I could eat okroshka right now, I’m so hungry,” Yuri muttered. “Let’s go inside before I decide that I want to eat the wax.” 

Yuuri grinned as they walked inside. “It wouldn’t be the first time someone tried to do that,” he said, tone serious and Yuri gave him an incredulous look, even as they were led to a table and presented with menus. The server gave Yuri a nervous look and then focused on Yuuri, the tension in her shoulders relaxing a little. 

“Please call out when you are ready,” she explained to Yuri carefully, miming with her hand. “We will come. Ask your friend.”

Yuuri ignored Yuri’s confused look and reassured the server that they would look over the menu and then call her over when they had decided, but that they wanted tea to start out with. He flicked his gaze over to Yuri, mouthing the Russian word for ‘jam’, but Yuri shook his head. 

“I think she was scared of me,” Yuri was torn between being amused and offended. She didn’t even know him and he  _ thought _ he was being polite. “At least she wasn’t petting my hair.”

“She’s pretty young, this is probably one of her first jobs and no matter how many foreigners trickle through Tokyo, she’s probably nervous each and every time she speaks to one.” He flushed. “I was a real mess every time one talked to me when I lived in Japan-- only when I really started meeting other skaters, did I get comfortable using English and relaxing more.”

“I didn’t exactly grow up using English either,” Yuri rolled his eyes. “It’s always easier to speak the language you grow up with. You at least had to learn English when you went to America for training. I still trained in St. Petersburg and only used English for interviews and shit.” He stared down at the menu in front of him and scowled. “And I can speak better Japanese than I used to, but I still can’t read it. What are they selling?” 

Yuuri leaned closer and pointed out the various meals, reading it slowly and smiling briefly as the server put down their tea and then left again, seeing that they were obviously not ready to order yet. It took a few more minutes before they decided and Yuuri had the satisfaction of briefly horrifying Yuuri as he shouted for a server across the restaurant. 

“Welcome to Japan?” he asked, giving him an innocent smile. 

Yuri gave him an annoyed look. “As soon as Worlds are over, we’re going back to civilized Russia,” he said firmly. “No arguments.”

“I wouldn’t dare,” Yuuri reassured him, keeping the straight face all through the order and only laughing once they were both alone again. 

~

They took the train again for what Yuuri promised was the last ‘big’ thing of the day, but one that he thought that Yuri would enjoy the most, other than the cat cafe. This train had more tourists on it, both foreign and domestic. They carried cameras and chatted in low, happy voices, a mix of languages that was like a constant background hum, but never rising up annoyingly loud. 

Buildings flashed by, the train jerking to a stop at various stations and the number of people on the train never seemed to decrease, no matter how many stops went by. “It’s a pretty popular place we’re going to,” Yuuri’s voice was quieter than normal and Yuri had to learn close to hear him. “It’s going to be crowded-- but I bought our tickets in advance and that should make it a little easier.”

“Another surprise?” Yuri raised an eyebrow. Yuuri was full of surprises today and it was odd and a little touching and Yuri wanted to see more of it. Yuuri also got a happy look on his face at each new reaction he got; it was part contentment and a little bit of mischief. Like when he had worked out a new routine and he couldn’t wait to stun people with it. 

“Mm, I supposed I could tell you, but it’ll be obvious enough when we get close enough to it,” Yuuri laughed softly. “I just like seeing your expression each time I find something new--I forget that not everyone has seen certain things or lived a certain way, even if I got out of practice after living in Detroit for so long.” 

“I liked seeing a lot of the things today,” Yuri kept his voice as bland as possible, but he couldn’t keep the outright smirk off his face. He wanted to get a rise out of Yuuri, break the careful facade that the other put up when they were in public spaces. Even if just for a moment… “I especially liked seeing that giant poster of you. I thought it was the best part of the day so far.”

Yuuri turned and smacked him, earning some confused looks and a whole gaggle of school students to giggle. Yuri preened, proud of himself and leaned back in the seat, letting the familiar sound of the train clicking over the tracks wash over him. He didn’t even need Yuuri to translate the stops, as they were given in a variety of languages, English included. When they reached Hamamatsucho Station, Yuuri tugged him to his feet and they followed a large group of people, including the large clumps of high school students that they had been sitting near. 

“It’s about two kilometers away,” Yuuri said, gesturing to the landmark that rose above the buildings. Yuri blinked and then laughed at the sight of Tokyo Tower.

“You really want to give me the full tourist tour, huh?” he asked. They were behind the school group and a few of the kids kept on looking back and giggling, but there was more than a few standouts in the group. Even if the Skytree was more popular and flashy, people from all over the world still flocked to Tokyo Tower. 

“I’ve actually never been,” Yuuri grinned. “My school was too far away to take a trip all the way up to Tokyo. We went down south, to Kumamoto; to the castle down there and then around to Mt. Aso. It was actually a really fun trip. Their castle was actually used, unlike the one in Hasetsu,” he laughed. “Over four hundred years old.” His eyes were bright again and it was clear that this also, was one of his passions. 

“Is it a ninja castle?” he asked dryly. “You should tell Viktor, too. He loves all that sort of nonsense. You can probably get him to dress up in costume and bounce around the hallways.” 

“.... he probably would,” Yuuri said with a laugh. “We can all go, maybe after Worlds. We haven’t really done a lot of stuff together lately, except for training.” Viktor had stated he’d probably live in Japan if he could, but that was before Yuuri had decided to move to St. Petersburg. “There’s so much of Japan that you both haven’t seen and I always…” his voice trailed off. Even if he decided to move to Russia, Japan was still his home in so many ways. “Maybe during the off-season we can take another road trip, this time around Japan.” 

“As long as you mention the sea to Viktor while talking about it, he’ll be all over it,” Yuri observed, both of them reaching the tower and settling in the line that led up to it. It wasn’t a busy time of the day, school groups or no, and it wouldn’t take as long as it could have to get up to the observation deck. It was the main reason anyone visited the tower, so they could view Tokyo from all angles. 

“There’s a good place about an hour train ride from Tokyo,” Yuuri said absently. “Lots of history and it’s really good for surfing, too.” He smiled a little. “I don’t think Viktor has ever been, either,” He laughed a little. “We can just make it a trip ‘best beaches in Japan’ for the next theme. Last time we went to Germany, right?” he asked. “And Viktor wanted to go to all the best spots for beer.” 

Yuri snorted at that. “If it wasn’t for the neat shit we saw along the way, it would have been the lamest trip.” They moved along, moving into the tower properly, Yuuri showing their tickets for both observation decks. 

“This isn’t the most exciting, either,” Yuuri shrugged. “But.. I thought it would be nice to show you all of Tokyo. You can see over the entire city, up to the bay and the surrounding area.” He fell quiet for a moment. “When I was first skating, I wanted to go to the top and tell myself ‘look, this is who you are skating for. For Japan’ to give myself courage.” 

“And you said you never got the chance until now?” Yuri asked curiously. They were shown to the elevator, the two of them on their own were sandwiched between a group of rowdy boys, shoving at each other and tossing insults back and forth with ease. It oddly made Yuri think of himself when he was a kid and his next thought was almost too predictable.  _ What was Yuuri like when he was fifteen? _

He had seen some of the pictures, but that didn’t tell the whole story. Yuuri had seen him move from spiteful teenager to hopefully someone that had matured along the years. He somehow felt cheated that he couldn’t reverse that and wondered why he hadn’t ever actually thought of it until now.  _ Maybe it’s the Japanese kids, _ he mused as it moved upward.  _ Seeing them makes it easier to imagine Yuuri wearing one of those uniforms. I can’t see him deliberately standing out though… _ His mind flashed back to the girls they met at the festival.  _ But like now, he probably caught people’s attention without even trying.  _

They reached the top of the tower and everyone spread out to the different windows, classmates already meeting up with groups that had gone in a previous run and Yuuri pulled Yuri along to one of the windows. “That side there leads toward Tokyo Bay. It’s probably the clearest image of Tokyo you’ll get.” He looked in awe himself, much like the Japanese people around him. “It looks incredible, doesn’t it?” he asked. 

Yuri nodded, moving from space to space, nose wrinkling a little as one window revealed the smog that hung over parts of the city, making it look like a completely different place from the sun that had sparkled over Tokyo Bay, or even the city that had just walked through.

“Wow,” Yuri shook his head, moving back to the window that had first gone to, turning him and Yuuri around so that they could get pictures together. He was determined to keep a memory of each place they visited today. For some reason, it felt like the right thing to do. He poked Yuuri in the side and made faces, until both of them were laughing and teasing each other, both of them with their phones up and taking photos of each other and the view from the windows; taking pictures of the  _ other _ taking pictures. 

As they were leaving, Yuri having non-so-discreetly buying a little figurine of a cat lounging on top of Tokyo Tower, he reached out for Yuuri’s hand again. He knew this was one of the last days that they could just wholly relax before getting back into more serious skating. They had to meet up with teammates and coaches… and for Yuri, that meant flying back to Russia before Yuuri. Viktor would fly to Japan and work with Team Japan.

It would be Viktor’s first year not skating with Russia in Worlds and Yuuri’s first year competing in Worlds. “Are you sure you can’t switch sides?” he teased, the thought of Viktor ‘abandoning’ Russia on his mind. “Maybe not this time, since we’ve already got all our teams worked out, but if Viktor can switch…” 

Yuuri blinked up at him, confused. “It’s not like I’m going to leave Russia or Yubileiniy anytime soon, Yura,” his voice was gentle as if he was sensing some of the real worry beneath the surface. “I’ve been there for two years now, have a little faith I won’t leave you.”

Yuri flushed and looked away, but he squeezed Yuuri’s hand in wordless gratitude. He idly thought that soon, he might be able to vocalize to himself why it meant so much to him that he didn’t lose Katsuki Yuuri in his life. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Again, a lot of my descriptions of Japan are heavily weighted with nostalgia and some faded memories. I visited Tokyo a few times and one of those was to visit Tokyo Tower! The town I mentioned that is 'by the sea' is Kamakura and Hase town is quite famous. I wanted to take the boys there, but maybe next time! 
> 
> Thank you all again for your continued support with this fic. I never thought it'd get so far. :)


	7. Chapter 7

The hotel room was nothing spectacular; the both of them remembered staying in far worse places in the past, especially during their junior years of competitions.

Being alone in a hotel room could have been awkward, but it wasn’t that at all. Not after the past few days and if he was being honest, the past few  _ years.  _ Still, Yuuri was keenly aware of Yuri’s presence in the room as the other moved around it, thumping his bag of purchases and then flopping down on the far bed.

Yuuri couldn’t help but think back to the first time he and Yuri had shared a room, when Yuri was just sixteen and they had been traveling together to a competition, Viktor at their side. He had still been outwardly belligerent and angry at the intrusion of Yuuri into his life, his rink and his country in general. Sharing a space with him when Yuuri did nothing but apologize for the unexpected intrusion had made him even more upset.

Yuuri had finally figured out, with the help of Mila and Georgi, that the way he was deferring to someone younger than him was what made Yuri angry. Yuuri was supposed to be ‘cooler’ than that and from that moment forward, Yuuri had started treating him more like a friend and a serious rival and showed it, instead of hiding the words behind closed doors to family or Viktor. That had been the real starting point to their actual friendship.

_ Yeah, Yuuri. He’s your friend—  _ There were very few friends that Yuuri could be so close to, so at ease with. He could count them on one hand and Yuri was one of the few. Viktor was another and Phichit the last of them. He didn’t want to ruin such a friendship by admitting he was starting to think of him in a different way.

Yuuri was trying to watch him covertly; he was wearing one of the shirts that he had bought earlier that day and it fit him just right, stretching across his body. It was loud and garish and something that was both uniquely Japanese and Yuri all at the same time. Yuri had gone him with more than one tiger or leopard printed shirt from that first trip to Hasetsu all those years ago and the tradition still stood.

Yuuri eyed the bag and it was easier to ease his own discomfort by poking at Yuri a little. “So, did you leave anything for the other wild-cat lovers in the stores this time?” He tried to keep his face as straight as possible, especially when Yuri’s eyes opened wide in shock at the unexpected tease.

Yuri was watching Yuuri as if he had done something completely unexpected and wasn’t sure how to react. “Are you trying to say that there are bigger fans of cats than me in this country?”

“They had to sell it to somebody before you came,” Yuuri teased, “or did you think they set it all out for you as soon as they knew your plane landed in Fukuoka?”

“Exactly,” Yuri smirked, pushing back his hair and looking extremely smug. “No one else could appreciate such awesome stuff like I can.”

“Glad to see your fans weren’t wrong about you,” Yuuri said slyly. “I’ll have to tell the Angels that they should up their cat presents they toss on the ice. I know that there are a lot of shops that import, after all—and not  _ all _ your fans are just in Russia.”

Yuri paled at the threat and with a panicked movement, threw the pillow next to his head directly at Yuuri, getting him on the side of his head. Yuuri blinked, looked down at where the pillow lay and a wide grin spread across his face as he returned fire.

It was a good thing that the walls were soundproof as they hurled pillows back and forth at each other, their aim getting more off as they laughed more, the comforter and sheets getting tangled and shoved to the ground as they both jumped on the bed to get to the person hiding  _ behind _ the other bed, and to get more fodder to toss when the rest of the ‘ammunition’ was used up.

They both ended up on the floor, cheeks red and breath interspersed with laughter. “I haven’t done that in ages,” Yuri admitted. “Not since I was in Juniors and one of the Americans thought that we should know all about their ‘traditions’ when there were sleepovers.”

Yuuri looked vaguely horrified at the thought; after living in America for several years, he had seen some of what the people there thought was ‘traditional.’ “What else did they share with you?” He asked, half-fascinated. Figure skaters didn’t have a lot of time on their hands, especially the ones that were trying to reach ever-rising goals, but when they did have the time to spare, they got  _ really _ creative.

“One wanted to do a food fight, another said ‘sneaking out before a competition’ was the best thing to do.” Yuri snorted. “He bombed  _ both _ skates and didn’t last long. He didn’t have the discipline.” Yuri liked to cut loose and have fun, but when it came to skating, he was completely devoted to improving each and every step, jump and spin to get the highest scores.

Yuuri winced at the memory of his earlier competitions, where he had slipped or fallen and then that first Grand Prix when he had met Yuri Plisetsky for the first time. Yuri caught the edge of his look and shoved him in the side. “You had your reasons, idiot. He had his, too—but his reasons boiled down to be a complete shithead.” That got a smile out of Yuuri; not many people earned that particular title; JJ was the only other one that Yuuri heard being referred to in that way. That Junior skater of must have really been spectacularly annoying.

“Glad I never met him on the ice,” Yuuri said blandly. “It wouldn’t have been any fun to skate against him.” He was rewarded with an ever bigger grin from Yuri.

“Now, you’re just getting  _ mean _ , Katsuki,” he smirked. “Am I rubbing off on you that much?”  

“Someone has to keep up with you,” Yuuri laughed. It had come out so mean, but he and Yuri and frankly, a lot of the other top tier skaters, felt the same way. You didn’t get into  _ competitive _ figure skating just for the love of it. You skated because you loved it and you worked hard because you loved it, too. You wanted to share that with other people and if you did poorly—then what did it say about how much you loved it?

“Yeah, are you going to join me in teasing Viktor for being an old man, though?” Yuri snickered at Yuuri’s face and the way it turned red. “Come on, I know he’s your coach, but there’s no harm in teasing him. Have you ever heard him teasing Yakov about losing his hair? Think of it as payback that you’re giving on behalf of Yakov.”

Yuuri tried to look as if he wanted to protest; it really was mean after all to tease Viktor about the one thing he was truly worried about. He thought back to when he first poked Viktor in the head and how he had collapsed on the ice, over dramatic and honestly worried over getting old and losing his hair. “I’m not going to do it…” he let his voice trail off.

“But you can’t stop me from doing it,” Yuri looked pleased with himself. “I’ve known him since I was twelve,” he shrugged. “He’ll expect it from me, I’m like the little brother he never wanted and we’re  _ supposed _ to be annoying.”

“Oh, yeah—the little brother handbook of annoying your older sibling,” Yuuri snickered and mustered up enough energy to grab at a nearby pillow and thwack Yuri in the side with it. “I got my own copy when I was old enough to read it. Mari couldn’t keep up with me some days.”

“I can’t see you as a troublemaker, katsudon,” Yuri snatched the pillow and put in underneath his head. “You’re nothing like I was as a kid, I bet.”

“Running off to skate and dance, instead of stocking towels and cleaning the onsen wasn’t exactly best sibling behavior,” Yuuri’s voice was calm, but his expression was pained. It wasn’t as if he could go back in time and change all of what he did, but it didn’t stop him from feeling guilty from all the times he pleaded practice instead of cleaning or helping with guests.

“I’m sure your family understood,” Yuri gave him a strange look. “Or did you miss that over-polished trophy room that your family has set up?” Without even struggling, he could see how proud Yuuri’s family was of him. In his opinion, skipping out on a chore or two wasn’t any problem compared to what Yuuri had been able to accomplish.

“It doesn’t stop me from feeling guilty,” Yuuri sat up, resting his chin on his knees. “That first year I came back after failing at the Finals, it was like all that skipping out on work had been a waste of time and my parents money.”

“Hey, no moping,” Yuuri barely looked up when the pillow hit him full in the face, knocking his glasses half off. “That’s in the past, you know your parents never saw you as doing as crappy as you thought you did and you’ve already gotten a gold medal since then. Stop beating yourself up about it, katsudon. I feel guilty about never being home sometimes, but the only one there for me growing up was my grandpa and he always supported me.”

Yuuri knew that Yuri had left Moscow to train in St. Petersburg from a young age and there had been more than just his grandpa that looked after him. He’d like to say that Yakov was one of them, but Yuri had never seemed particularly close to the volatile man, not like Viktor was. There was something there, but Yuuri would be that it hadn’t always been there, not until Yuri was older.

“Yeah—you’re right,” Yuuri rubbed at his nose and smiled softly. “I wouldn’t change my childhood for anything in the world, except maybe worked a little harder to have done better earlier…” he shrugged. “Still, no one ever thought badly of me, I just never noticed when they saw so much in me.”

The look Yuri gave him was hard to describe. “Yeah—sometimes you have a giant blind spot when people are looking at you.” He stood up and held up a hand to Yuuri. “C’mon, let’s get some sleep, Yuuri. You said we have an early trip tomorrow and then…”

“And then you go back to Russia to train with your team and me to Sapporo to train with mine the day after that.” Yuuri gave him a teasing grin. “By the time you get up there, you’ll have another few days of cherry blossoms to enjoy.”

“Can’t your flowers all bloom at the same time?” Yuri scoffed, pulling off his shirt and rummaging around for more comfortable clothes to sleep in, making a face when he realized this hadn’t been a normal trip and he didn’t really have much.

“Do you have all the same seasons at the same time all across the entirety of Russia?” Yuuri shot back, not quite looking at Yuri as he copied him, grabbing at the tangled covers and sheets to at least have something to sleep under. “Japan’s not quite as big, but Sapporo is a long way from Hasetsu and stays colder for a longer time.”

“Yeah, yeah. You have a point,” Yuri rolled his eyes and eyed Yuuri before falling back onto his bed, absently reaching for his phone at the same time and scrolling through Instagram updates and reading text messages. “Still, I think you planned this all out, somehow. To always be surrounded by flowers in Japan. They were here that first time, too.”

Yuuri snickered. “Well, you were here around blooming time that year, too. I think you’re the one that makes it happen. You brought the flowers and Viktor brought the unexpected snowstorm.”

“That sounds disgustingly sappy, Katsudon. I’m not the flowers sort of guy—it’d be badass to be riding in at the front of a storm, though.” He grinned as he set his phone aside, hands behind his head. “Thunder and lightning and winds—it’d be so cool, don’t you think?”

Yuuri snickered at the image and had to admit that it suited Yuri too well. “You know there is a legend that lightning is created from a magical beast that sometimes takes the form of a cat? Thunder comes from its cries and lightning striking building is from its claws scratching and catching on all the buildings and trees it leaps on.”

“Yeah? That’s like… a hundred times cooler than coming in with flowers,” Yuri grinned to himself as he imagined a cat that created lightning.

Yuuri laughed a little more at Yuri waving his hands around as if he was trying to emulate the mythical cat. “Sometimes you can come up with some pretty interesting stuff.” He yawned in between the words and Yuuri started yawning as well.

He tried to fight it off, but it all caught up with him unexpectedly. He didn’t want this day to end. Even if it wasn’t going to be that long before they saw each other again after Yuri flew back to Russia, there was a part of him that was going to miss the closeness that they had shared over the past week. He hoped they could keep that once the season ended and they had a little more time to rest.

~

Going back to the quieter areas of Hasetsu would be almost a shock after Tokyo. Even in the early morning when they had left to catch the train, there had still been more people around than Yuri had expected and he knew the Hasetsu station at this hour would be completely dead.

“I can’t believe we have to leave so early to take the train back,” Yuri muttered. “Your country really is a lot bigger than it seems. I can’t believe that we took that long getting here—why does it seem like it’s taking twice as long to get back?”

Yuuri shrugged and smiled a little. “Maybe because you don’t want to go back?” he asked with a grin. “Going back not only means going back to the inn, but then back to Russia and Yakov yelling at you, Mila trying to do lifts again…”

Yuri made a face. “At least Viktor will be with you and I won’t have to see him again until the competition starts. He’s been practicing all sorts of choreography, so be warned, katsudon. I think he’s got something evil planned up his sleeves for you.”

“I thought we had worked out all the ‘surprises’,” Yuuri groaned, leaning back in the comfortable cushions of the seat. He would have flown back if he hadn’t already bought the round trip tickets for the Shinkansen. At least it was better than a normal train and while not as fast as flying, it would oddly be more comfortable in a way.

“You know Viktor,” Yuri shrugged. “He’s always wanted to go one extra step and since he’s not skating this year…” He turned his head to look at Yuuri. “It just means that all that time and energy that went into his own programs is going to be put into yours. Believe, me, the rest of us are getting some of the fallout as well. Yakov is going to explode one of these days.”

Yuuri snickered. “Are you sure you don’t want me to take him away from Russia so that you don’t have to deal with that?” His gaze went out the window; they had gotten here early enough that people were still loading onto the train, even if it would be leaving soon. The staff moved around efficiently, only pausing to help a passenger with luggage or give directions. There were a few tourists that stood out among the Japanese and he noticed with amusement that they seemed more confident of where they were going than some of the older people on the platform.

“No!” The vehemence in Yuri’s voice startled him and he turned to look, eyes widening in surprise. “You said you were going to stay in Russia, Yuuri. You can’t just joke and change your mind. I don’t care that the old man is causing a fuss. He always has and it’s not like it’s a bad thing all the time.” He slumped down in his seat, lowering his voice when other passengers looked their way, disapproving frowns on their faces. “You are coming back, right?”

Yuuri rested a hand on his arm, biting his lip. “Yuri, it was just a joke,” he said quietly. “I promise that after the season is over, I’m coming back to Russia. Now that Viktor’s retired except for coaching and choreography, we all have more time on our hands, don’t we?” he asked. “You promised you were going to take me to Moscow this summer.”

“That doesn’t mean you wouldn’t run right back here after it was all over!” Yuri hissed. “I saw how much you love Japan, katsudon. It’s your home, after all—all your family is here, your friends…”

“Which I left for years when I went to college, remember?” Yuuri asked, poking him in the side, unsure if he was more amused or shocked at how Yuri’s thoughts mirrored his own. St. Petersburg was more of a home now than he ever thought it would be. Hasetsu would always be his home nest, a place that he’d go back to again and again. HIs family and friends that had always supported him from the beginning were there. The Ice Castle and Yuuko and Takeshi had been the start of what made him start skating. Japan was always the country he would skate for, but Russia and the rinkmates and friends he made there were important, too.

“And after all the places I’ve been to and lived, Yuri… Russia is the place I’m choosing to call home for now.” He didn’t miss Yuri’s pleased smile, even if the other tried to hide it by turning his face away. It was the easiest solution, but not one that came as easily as Yuuri implied. He had toyed with the idea of staying in Japan; Viktor and Yuri both loved the country and the people there.

As much as he wanted to, though, he couldn’t picture  _ Yuri _ living long term in anywhere but Russia. His family was there; the grandfather he loved so much and so was the mother that he had alluded to at times. His rink was there and all his friends; he was comfortable traveling all over the globe, but his home would  _ always _ be Russia. Yuuri didn’t mind making it his home as well and if he was being honest with himself, it wasn’t just for the ease of having a top-class coach or friendly, helpful rinkmates. It wasn’t even just for skating alongside Viktor and learning from him day by day. It was a combination of all those things and a little more.

“Yeah, well—“ Yuri was still scowling, but he finally untensed and leaned back against Yuuri again. “Stop talking, katsudon. You might say something stupid again and ruin my sleep.” He closed his eyes and for all intents and purposes, looked like he had fallen straight to sleep. Yuuri sighed and made himself as comfortable as he could as the train jerked into motion and they were moving back towards home.

~

When they finally got back to Hasetsu, it was still early in the day, not even quite noon, but even though Yuuri managed to sleep as well on the train, he still felt groggy. He didn’t want to sleep, though, keenly aware of how short a time they had right now. They both had to pack, make arrangements for who was picking  who up and plan for their trips. Yuuri was going to stay a few days at home with his family until Viktor arrived and then the two of them would fly up to Sapporo.

“You know, I thought for the last night—“ Yuuri was poking slowly at the small bowl of rice, unwilling to risk overeating so close to a major competition, but also worried about not getting enough or the right amount of calories. He fell quiet again for a moment and Yuri poked him with one of the chopsticks.

“Do you always have something planned?” he demanded. He was eating his meal with more enthusiasm than Yuuri was, but he paused long enough to glare at him. “We don’t have to make a big production out of every moment here.”

“No, but I thought—“ Yuuri shrugged. “That first time you came, we all played with the sparklers on the beach. It’s a little cold to go into the water still, but I thought it would be fun to play with those again.” He had pictures on his phone from Mari taking pictures and even short snippets of film. He still planned to use that day as inspiration for a routine at some point, but the moment hadn’t been right.

Yuri considered that, it was one of the first time he really remembered cutting loose and having fun, chasing Viktor and Yuuri along the strip of beach, making patterns in the dark. He had been able to see a side of Viktor that he didn’t think existed anymore; happy and carefree and it was with other people, not just with Makkachin.

“Save it for the summer when we come back here and Viktor’s here, too,” Yuri said finally. “It wouldn’t be the same without him, right?”  His cheeks were red as he avoided looking directly at Yuuri. “And it’ll give us an excuse to come back here. Even if you are moving to Russia, we can spend our off-season wherever we want.” It wasn’t quite true; there were training camps and ice shows and other programs to earn money. There was also working – always working – on what would be the next programs for the upcoming season. Still; Yuri was right. Off-season would give them more chances.

“… I suppose you’re right,” he murmured. It was selfish of him to want another moment just with Yuri, but he had more of them this past week than he ever had before. “I just thought it would be a nice way to end your visit—sort of a full circle thing.”

Yuri blinked and then smiled again, pushing aside his now-empty bowl. “Jeez, do you always have to be such a fucking sap, katsudon?” He shook his head and sighed. “I mean, I could always use it as an excuse to one-up Viktor and rub it in his face, but that’s not even trying.”

Yuuri snorted while he grabbed his and Yuri’s bowl and stacked them rest of the dishware together. “Well, then – you’ll have to beat him to the punch at something else, then,” he teased. “You have one more night, Yuri. Better think of it fast.”

“I already know what I beat him at,” Yuri smirked and poked Yuuri in the side of head at the wide-eyed, confused look that was given him way. “Hurry up and figure it out, katsudon.”

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So this was going to be the last chapter, but I thought I'd stretch it out for one more and then wrap it up. Thank you all to have kept up with it so far, all your comments have really encouraged me! Next chapter will probably have the moment you've all been waiting for XD


	8. Chapter 8

It wasn’t another early morning trip this time, but the station wasn’t full of people as they headed out to the airport for Yuri to catch his flight back to Russia. “You didn’t have to come with me,” Yuri snorted. “I made it here and I can make it back—“ He still looked a little pleased though, leaning on his suitcase and waiting for the train to come in. “It’s not like it’s going to be more than a week before we see each other again.”

Yuuri grinned a little. “I have to make sure you don’t have a fan attack you along the way and keep you from making your flight,” he said innocently. “They’re sneaky, you know. You turn to the side and all of a sudden, you’re lured away by the sound of cats and leopard t-shirts.”

“Don’t you mean that one of  _ your _ fans are going to try and kidnap me so that you can look better?” Yuri snarked back. “I mean, you’ve got some good people that’ll be skating at Worlds and maybe they want to even the odds.” Only the best made it to Worlds, just like the Grand Prix before it.

“I’m sure they’ll be plenty more people for me to topple other than you, Yura,” Yuuri laughed and ruffled his hair. “Even if you are the only single male Russian that made it this year.” Mila had made it, to no one’s surprise, but the pair skaters hadn’t made it, even if the dancers did. It was like Mila and Yuri were carrying Russia on their shoulders and while Yuuri knew they would rise to the occasion and surpass the competition, it was still a lot to bear. “The other countries have excellent skaters, too.”

“Hmph, they’re not as good as you and me and you know it,” Yuri said confidently, but there was a hint of a teasing smirk on his face. He was about to say more, when the train moved into the station and Yuuri followed Yuri onto the train, uncaring that he’d be making this same trip again in just a few days.

_ The station workers are going to wonder what’s going on. I don’t think I’ve ridden the train so much since I had competitions all over the place… _ They didn’t always even take the train to them when he was younger; all the equipment he had hauled along with him made longer train rides impractical. The train was mostly silent and halfway full; filled with commuters and the occasional student. It was normal and familiar and Yuri’s bright blond hair and taller features got him more than a few curious looks and one of the students gave them  _ both _ a startled look and started typing on her phone at a furious pace.

Yuuri winced and kept his voice quiet. “I think we found the rare fan that isn’t in the skating rink,” he murmured. “Good thing the train ride isn’t as long as the rest of the others…” Not that Yuri didn’t already know that, but Yuuri almost felt like he had to fill the silence, even if it  _ was _ impolite, to keep Yuri’s attention on him.

“Yeah, well, hopefully she’s one of yours and she’ll follow you along like a lost puppy so that I can make my escape.” Yuri leaned over him, eyes bright and full of mischief. “You don’t mind taking one for the team, right?” he asked. “Use yourself as bait so I don’t miss my flight?”

“If you think I can pass myself off as you to distract the mob, you better get me a wig and a pair of stilts,” Yuuri snickered quietly. “Although if I wear one of your leopard print coats and a hat, they might be confused enough that you can make a break for it.”

Yuri snorted at the image of Yuuri trying to run off around the airport, swimming in Yuri’s oversized jacket, trailing fangirls as he went. His shoulders shook as he tried to hold in his laughter. Yuuri just grinned up at him.

They both fell silent after that; it was a reminder that this trip was to send Yuri away and even if it was for a short while, neither one of them wanted the time to end. Yuuri looked away for a moment to where the train stopped at another station, listening to people talking outside, about the start of a school year, of long work schedules; of the newest trend in a magazine. When the doors opened, the smell of freshly fallen flowers filled the air and some drifted inside. Yuuri caught one and presented it to Yuri with a faint smile. “Didn’t you say that you wanted to go home with flowers?” he teased.

Yuri looked down at the offering, cheeks turning a deep shade of pink before he accepted it carefully. “Yeah—I’m sure as hell not going to take your weird flower food. Might as well take the flowers.” He kept his hand on Yuuri’s, biting his lip faintly and looking as if he wanted to say more, before he shook his head and pulled away. “Hope you’re going to give me more than just one,” he said, voice almost rough. “Don’t you know that you don’t just give one, katsudon?”

“I’ll give you some from my gold medal bouquet at Worlds,” Yuuri said blandly, trying to keep from outright laughing at the disbelieving look that Yuri gave him, holding him off before Yuri tackled him and they caused a big enough scene to get kicked off the train.

“I’ll get you back for that,” Yuri whispered, poking him in the side. “When I sweep you  _ and _ your country at Worlds. You won’t be getting any flowers from  _ me _ .”

“Aw, Yuri—but I thought you cared about me,” Yuuri wanted to call back his words the moment they came out, they were less teasing and held a strain of truth that he wasn’t sure he was comfortable voice out loud and from the shocked look Yuri gave him in return, he felt the same.

“I—I care about you standing below me on the podium!” Yuri blustered, face more flushed than before and Yuuri gave him a smirk in return, but was glad that Yuri didn’t push or question what he just said. Yuuri’s heart was pounding hard enough as it was at his own daring.

“We’ll see who is standing below,” Yuuri taunted and they pushed back and forth, until one of the staff members walked by, giving him disapproving looks, mostly aimed at Yuuri. He didn’t even need to speak for Yuuri to hunch down in his seat, ears red for an entirely different reason than his and Yuri’s conversation.

It was almost a good thing when the train made it to their stop and Yuuri helped carry Yuri’s luggage off the train, avoiding all contact with the rail workers. He looked down at his phone instead. “Ten more minutes until the next train,” he said, leaning back against one of the poles and taking a deep breath. “We should go over to that platform so that we don’t miss it…”

“You’re spending a lot of time and money just to do this all over again,” Yuri noted, but he didn’t pull away when Yuuri walked close to him. “You’re either a glutton for punishment or you have a secret, bottomless stash of cash somewhere.”

Yuuri shook his head. “It was another sponsorship thing,” he explained. “I did some promoting a few years back and that earned discounted and some free tickets for Japan Rail. How else do you think I was able to afford those tickets to Tokyo?” he asked. “They cost as much as a good pair of skates, otherwise.”

Yuri gaped at him; he hadn’t really looked at the prices and sometimes the yen still threw him off, but he was glad he hadn’t known or else he’d have protested long and hard over Yuuri throwing away money just to show him ‘more of Japan’ than what he normally saw.

“Those were my free ones,” he said shyly. “I’ve been saving them for a little while; I knew I could put them to good use sooner or later and I’m glad I waited.”

“Instead of some other competition like NHK or something?” Yuri asked in disbelief. “You’re weird, Yuuri, but….” He looked down for a moment. “Thanks—for…for the entire time, really. Skating and exploring and even taking me to the airport, even if you didn’t need to.”

“Of course, Yuri,” he looked at him in surprise, nearly stopping in his shock, but the clocks around the station warned them that they couldn’t linger. It wasn’t like the train would be late, after all and they’d have to wait another fifteen minutes if they missed this one. “I can’t leave you alone, remember? Who’s going to fend off your fans if I’m not there?”

“True, I knew I was keeping you around for something other than being a translator,” Yuri smirked. The next platform wasn’t so far off, but it was far more crowded; a lot of people used it to get to the airport and for once, Yuri wasn’t lost in a sea of Japanese. There were people from all over here; tourists and travelers, some that had made their home in Japan and then the random college student or student teacher.

“This isn’t Tokyo, but they still speak a lot of English here,” Yuuri shrugged, relaxing now that they weren’t having to rush for the train. “You wouldn’t need me to translate.” His look was far away now and already he was mentally saying goodbye to Yuri and took his words more literally than he would have before, especially with all the teasing they had been doing.

“Yuuri? Hey—you know that was a joke, right?” Yuri snapped his fingers in front of Yuuri’s face, earning a startled squawk. “Don’t get all mopey on me, idiot. I know they speak English in this city; they sure as shit didn’t speak Russian and were able to direct me to where I needed to go.”

“Even if even your English wasn’t all that great?” Yuuri teased again, lips turning upward as he regained that bit of momentum. “No wonder you looked so angry when you came to Hasetsu. The only other ones that really spoke English with any regularity were Yuuko and Minako-sensei.” Everyone else had what they learned in school; his parents had known a little more because of all the foreigners that came to stay at the inn, but nowhere near the fluency needed to understand cobbled together English phrases from various ice skating competitions.

“Like your Russian was any better,” Yuri shot back, but he was relieved that the melancholic moment seemed to pass so quickly. “I wish you were coming back now,” he admitted. It was stupid to want to keep an eye on him; to yell at him and tease and taunt him when pre-skate jitters came up. To try and match his ridiculous steps or show up him with the next trick jump he had shoved into his routine.

“I… yeah,” Yuuri gripped the suitcase harder, looking up at the clocks and down the tracks, even if they had three minutes to go. “But like you said, it’s only a little over a week and then I’m going to beat you at Worlds.” He kept his expression as innocent as possible; it was easy to be confident that he could beat every top skater that came to Worlds when he was teasing Yuri about doing so.

“I’ll let you be on the podium,” Yuri felt he was being generous here. “You can hold my gold medal once the ceremony is over and pretend that you got the top spot.” Even if they were speaking quietly, they were using English and a few of the people standing nearby were laughing quietly at their banter.

Yuri was about to continue the teasing when the announcement came over that the train was coming in and it rode over any words he could have made and he had gotten used to routine of moving quickly to get inside. Yuuri stopped him from sitting down, keeping a hand on his shoulder. “It’s a short ride,” he said quietly. “About five minutes and trust me, you’ll want to be standing to get off the train as quickly as possible once we hit the airport.”

“I  _ know _ , katsudon,” Yuri poked him in the forehead. “It’s not even been a full week when I made this trip the last time and  _ all _ airports are batshit busy. I have all my flight information and I know where to go.” He smirked a little. “Plus, I can see over the heads of everyone else scurrying to the plane. I totally have the advantage here. Are you sure  _ you’re _ not the one that’s going to have the problem?”

“I can at least ask the staff where to go if your gate gets changed,” Yuuri shot back, but there really wasn’t as much time for their banter as before and there was a twisting sensation in his stomach. It was absolutely  _ ridiculous _ , he’d be seeing Yuri again in a week’s time. The train opened its doors to the airport and Yuri and Yuuri joined the flood of people, pausing at the departures board to make sure there really hadn’t been a change in time or gate.

There were no such delays and while it was a disappointment, it was also a blessing—it meant that any other connecting flights could be met and they could both settle into their routines that would prepare them for Worlds. Still, it didn’t prevent Yuri from practically dragging his feet through the airport, reaching for Yuuri’s free hand with hardly a blush. If Yuuri was going to be a such an oblivious, yet total sap, Yuri was going to take advantage of it until the time was right.

All too soon they were in front of barrier that separated departing passengers from family and friends and Yuri squeezed Yuuri’s hand hard, leaning his forehead against Yuuri’s. “Don’t let Viktor drive you into the ground,” he ordered. “You always work yourself over trying to keep up with him and I won’t have you coming to Worlds exhausted and useless.”

Yuuri snickered at that. “Are you kidding? Have you seen the last practice? He complained he couldn’t keep up with me, because I insisted going to Minako’s studio every night after skating practice. I’m pretty sure the last time he and her were sharing a drink and offering advice while I put myself through my routine off ice.”

“I hope you took pictures,” Yuri’s grin was wicked. “I’ll have to have something to tease the old man about when I get there before he flies off again.”

“Bad, Yuri—“ Yuuri’s smile was no less bright as he let go of Yuri’s suitcase to fish for his phone. There were so many more pictures on it from the past few days; things that he kept private for himself and a few friends, instead of instantly updating his Instagram. He had noticed that only a few of the pictures that Yuri had taken were uploaded as well and he tried to ignore the happy feeling in the pit of his chest at the thought that Yuri wanted to keep their week to himself, too. “But you’ve been a horrible influence on me, so of course I did.”

It was worth the strain he had given himself to sneak the picture, when he saw Yuri’s face light up at the two tipsy teachers leaning against each other, Viktor’s arm stretched out as he was obviously trying to correct some bit of form or another.

“Amazing,” Yuri laughed and pulled away to get a clearer look at it. “Definitely send that to me.” He handed the phone back to Yuuri, hesitating a little. “I guess I should go—you know how much of a pain in the ass it is to get through everything—“

Yuuri nodded; it wasn’t anything new to either one of them, after all the countries they had flown through and all the various airports. “Yeah—call me when you get there safely; I know it’s going to be a crappy time for either one of us. I just—“ he shrugged a little. “It’ll be nice to know you got there safely.”

“Yeah… yeah, I will.” Yuri hesitated again before leaning forward and giving him a brief hug, earning a startled look from Yuuri when he pulled away. “From Barcelona,” he teased. “You looked like you needed it this time and I guess I shouldn’t run away this time.”

Yuuri looked more than a little dazed and gave a nod. Yuri preened, pleased with himself that he essentially got the last word and knocked Yuuri’s worldview askew a little more. He gave a wave as he moved through the line. He looked back to see Yuuri still staring after him, looking a bit lost.

_ Soon, Yuuri...you’ve teased me all this week and I’m going to make sure you realize the consequences of your actions. _

~

The flight back was boring without Yuuri to snark with and he was pressed up against the window, staring out at the expanse of clouds. He didn’t want to look at the old man sitting next to him, snoring away and trying to inch his way into Yuri’s seat. He tried to quell his anger by imagining Viktor getting to that age, bald on top like Yakov and wrinkly and  _ gross _ . 

Even with all his teasing, though and comments to Yuuri, he still thought of Viktor as an older brother -- _ much older _ \-- the fifteen year old inside of him snickered. An annoying older brother, but one that had helped him through the years and it was impossible to forget that he had once been Viktor’s fan as well, even as he had declared he would surpass him on the ice. That had happened and more and while VIktor would always have the title of “Living Legend” for all his accomplishments in his figure skating career, Yuri and even  _ Yuuri’s _ skating threatened to one-up that title. 

He still remembered that first year, when he had seen the potential in Yuri and, like everyone else, was drawn in by the dancing he did on the ice. It had pissed him off that Yuuri had wanted to throw it all away, crashing completely and then running off to cry. It had ruined the image of Yuuri he had built in his head and the disappointment soured every breath for weeks and months on end. With each new improvement or jump or step, it only pissed him off more, because  _ there _ was the skater that he knew had been there all along and was now just showing it because of  _ Viktor. _

Yuri had squashed any thoughts of a crush on the older skater; there were far more important things to worry about other than Yuuri’s  _ looks _ . He had to focus on the way he moved his body with step sequences; because he always scored high with those. He was getting to be a terror with jumps and even though Yuri still had more flexibility and grace in his jumps, Yuuri had always been a serious rival to strive to beat. 

It was easier when Yuuri was taking classes and training and being somewhere  _ other _ than Russia, but once he had moved to train with Viktor in his home country and rink, it had become harder to look at Yuuri as just a rival skater. 

The old man starting snoring extra loud and broke Yuri out of his musings. He cringed and pushed in his earbuds, flicking on his music and thumbing through all the pictures he had taken during his brief stay with Yuuri. His expression softened without thinking; he had caught Yuuri more times than the other knew; both in Tokyo and Hasetsu; he had even caught him looking off towards that ridiculous poster in the station, before Yuuri had realized he was there. 

_ Face it, Plisetsky _ . He frowned down at the phone.  _ You’re not only attracted to him, you really like him.  _ He wanted to keep Yuuri close; that moment where he had teased about staying in Japan had been a shock. He had gotten used to Yuuri always being there and his half-formed plans of having him as… something more than friends would be ruined if Yuuri moved away from Russia. 

He wasn’t the only one that was attracted to Yuuri; even if Yuuri himself was oblivious, it was obvious in the way he had fans follow  _ other _ people that blogged about his life, when Yuuri wouldn’t. Of fellow skaters that whispered about how intimidating Yuuri was and how they wanted to get closer. Yuri wanted to kick them all away and keep Yuuri for himself. It was such a ludicrous thought; one that he never would have entertained even a year ago. All the sappy nonsense he had made fun of others for, he wanted for him and Yuuri. 

_ I want to find out what it’s like to kiss him _ .

His face burning, even if no one could hear his thoughts but him, Yuri turned up his music and sank down in his chair. He could hear his younger self mocking him and he wanted to drown out his own thoughts. He could make it all make sense once it was time for Worlds and he saw Yuuri again.

He might even swallow his pride and ask for advice. He didn’t want to screw this up and risk losing his chance of keeping Yuuri Katsuki all to himself. 

~

It was a lot quieter at home without Yuri there; even if it had only been for a few days, Yuri’s presence was one that stood out and Yuuri found himself turning to point out or ask something and was left with empty air.  _ You are absolutely ridiculous _ , he informed himself. He hadn’t gotten this worked up over people leaving before, he shouldn’t know.  _ And Yuri would tease you for ages at you being this mopey over him not being there. That or brag that ‘of course, anyone would miss someone as cool as me.’ _

The thought made him smile as he prepared Viktor’s room. It would be one night of rest before they flew up to Sapporo together. Viktor could have just met him up there, but it was tradition for him to stop by the inn, get fussed over by Yuuri’s mother and get katsudon. They’d soak in the onsen together and just relax; Yuuri was expressly forbidden to skate during the time that Viktor was at the inn, because of his rule of “there are other things that a coach does for his student that doesn’t involve skating.” He would put him through the basics of his routine again once they got to the rink, but for the few days beforehand, even casual skating was put to the side so that Yuuri could gear up mentally for the challenge. 

Things had certainly changed for all of them since Viktor had blown into Yuuri’s life three years ago; mesmerized by his idol and his faith in him. Showing him what he could do as a skater and making him feel confident in not only his skills, but himself. Even though they had struggled as coach and student that first year in so many ways, Viktor had seen a part of him that no one else had seemed to and it had done wonders for lifting his spirits. 

It wasn’t as if Viktor’s friendship had erased a lifetime of anxiety and uncertainty, but he was able to push past some of it to see that even if he faltered, he was still capable of so much more. Viktor had stated, more than once, that Yuuri was the one that saved  _ him _ and not the other way around and was wont to tease that if Yuuri was a little older or he was a little younger, he would have romanced him silly and showered him with affection. 

He finished folding back the last blanket when arms wrapped around him in a tight hug. “Yuuri!” VIktor’s voice rang out in the small room and Yuuri turned with a laugh and shoved at him lightly. “You were supposed to wait for me to come and pick you up!” he scolded.

“But it was so much more fun to surprise you,” Viktor grinned. “Just like old times, right?” He winked, sending the blush to streak across Yuuri’s face. He didn’t think he’d ever forget racing to see that Viktor was actually at his home, his tired brain not putting together the pieces that if Viktor was in the baths, he wouldn’t be  _ dressed _ . Of course, one didn’t usually stand up in the bath, exposing everything to the world. 

“At least it wasn’t in the onsen itself,” Yuuri laughed and gave Viktor a hug back. “I’m glad to see you here--where’s Makkachin?” he asked, tilting his head in inquiry. Makkachin rarely left Viktor’s side, except for the long trips and even then, Viktor tried to bring her along somehow. 

“My mother has kidnapped my dog,” he said dramatically, pressing a hand to his heart. “She claims that it has been too long since she has been able to spoil Makka and stated that if I let her stay here, then she would lose her spot as ‘favorite grandma’ to Makkachin.” He smiled, more relaxed this time. “She also wishes you the best and said that all my focus needs to be on you and the competition. I tried to tell her how disappointed she would be, but….”

“But you couldn't exactly fly Makkachin up to Sapporo and we’re not staying in Hasetsu after Worlds is over, so you wouldn’t get to see much of Makkachin anyway,” Yuuri laughed. He would miss seeing Makkachin before the big competition, since the oversized poodle had a way of calming him down, but she would be happier not jetted all over the place as well, only to be away from Viktor and Yuuri anyway. 

“You wound me, using my mother’s logic against me,” Viktor smiled as he said it though, pulling away to ruffle at Yuuri’s hair. “I’m surprised I didn’t catch Yura here, though,” he said, expression sly, as if he knew more than Yuuri was saying. “You two have gotten so much closer in the past year, after all--”

The tips of Yuuri’s ears burned as Viktor pushed him in front of him to lead him to the main room. “It’s not like that,” he protested. “At least-- I mean… I….” he was stumbling over his words again, uncertain of what he felt and what he thought was safe to vocalize. 

“You know, I think it's mutual, if that's any help.” Viktor offered, looking serious. He could tell how much it meant to Yuuri and he softened his teasing. “I think you two are good for each other. You've always had a … unique friendship.” The grin was back in full force at the understatement.

Yuuri snorted. “It took awhile, but we’ve gotten better.” He was quiet a moment. “There's a difference in friendship and falling in love, though. And I … what if I'm not worth the sort of love that Yuri deserves?” Yuri was bright and gifted and beautiful and even with all the progress Yuuri had made in his self-confidence; he sometimes felt that he fell short of what Yuri deserved.

“Yuuri…” Viktor gave him a serious look, resting his hands on his shoulders. “Do you realize how many people think they're not worthy of  _ you _ ?” he asked. “You are beautiful and so talented. Yura was always trying to reach your level and have you see him as an equal, both off and on the ice.”

Yuuri wanted to protest that, but he knew at least part of it was true. They both wanted to be equal for each other and constantly drove everyone in the rink nuts with trying to outdo each other. “I'm not…” he was plain and ordinary in looks, but he thought of the way Yuri’s touch had lingered on his skin and thought he could be and wanted to be beautiful for him. 

“Are you sure?” he asked instead, looking up at Viktor, biting his lip and waiting for the response as they walked into the main room, his mother already enveloping Viktor in what had to be the second or third hug of the day. 

Viktor looked back and smiled at him, squeezing his hand once. “I’m positive, Yuuri. I know both of you better than you think you do.”

“Can you help me show it?” he asked shyly. “In my program, I mean? I… “ It had always been easier to explain how he felt in skating, than it was in words and he hoped that Yuri would be playing close enough attention that he would see what Yuuri had finally realized and wanted to tell him. “Yuri did say you something else you wanted to add to the program.”

Viktor laughed at that. “Yuri ruined my surprise,” he pouted, but he looked thoughtful at Yuuri’s words. “I think we can manage something,” he murmured. “You express yourself the best in skating and figure skating creates stories with each movement. If Yuri doesn’t notice something after your short program, then he’s been deliberately blind.”

Hiroko looked between the two of them and she gave Viktor a wide smile.”You’re going to help Yuuri confess?” she asked, bouncing on her toes a little. She saw Viktor as part of the family and always had, since the moment he had blown in a swirl of winter wind, but she knew that her son’s heart was already turned towards the younger, more brash skater that had shown up not too long after. 

VIktor nodded and hugged Yuuri again. “I couldn’t leave myself out of it,” he teased. “Or else those two would only flirt while they tried to outdo each other with jumps and spins and step sequences.” 

Yuuri made a face, shoving at him for guessing correctly how he and Yuri operated. It was how they had always been; from rivals to friendship to something that had been developing below the surface that neither one of them had vocalized. “That’s not a bad thing,” he protested. It would be the easy way out, after all-- letting things go as they had been, but after the past week, Yuuri wasn’t sure he could be satisfied with just that. 

The look VIktor and his mother gave him let him know they saw what he was thinking and he made a face. “I know, I know…” he stared down at his hands. “I just don’t want to lose what we already have,” he said softly.

His mother gave him a fierce hug. “I saw the way that young man looked at you, Yuuri,” she said gently. “You won’t lose what you’ve built up with him. You’re only going to build more.”

~

Yuri was waiting for his turn on the ice, moving his body into a standing split while he thumbed through his phone, only to have it snatched out of his hand by Mila. “You hag! Give that back!” His ears were red; he had been looking at one of the pictures of Yuuri being mobbed by cats at the cafe and he  _ knew _ Mila was going to tease him mercilessly for the pictures. 

“Ooh, is this from your trip to Japan?” she asked, darting away from him, cackling as he moved to get at her. She wasn’t taller than him anymore; but she was fast and was already moving on her skates. It would take time for him to put on his skates and chase after her and he didn’t want to risk damaging his phone by wrestling it from her. 

She was already flipping through some of the pictures and he clenched his fists on the railing, glaring at her hard enough that he hoped she would somehow catch fire from the force of his anger. He thought about Yuuri’s tale of lightning cats and if the universe was fair in any way, he could use that power. 

He expected teasing and calls of ‘how cute’ it all was; he wasn’t expecting Mila to skate back and hand back his phone, looking sheepish. “You really like him, don’t you?” she asked bluntly. “The Japanese Yuuri.”

He opened his mouth to yell at her, but she looked almost sympathetic and he hunched his shoulders. “I don’t know what you’re talking about,” he muttered instead, tucking away his phone and putting on his skates. “We’re friends, hag.” 

“And a few years ago, you weren’t even willing to admit even that,” she leaned over and stared at him, ignoring Yakov’s yelling to get back to skating. “You look really happy with him, Yuri--are you two dating now? Is that why you went to Japan during your break?”

Yuri was sure his face was going to burn off with the force of his blush and his push onto the ice was more violent than usual. “No,” he snapped. “We just hung out and he showed me different parts of Tokyo. He doesn’t… he’s not…” he fumbled his words, embarrassed to be discussing this with  _ Mila _ of all people. The only one that would be worse would be Viktor, or god forbid, Yakov. 

“He’s also denser than a bag of rocks,” she said flatly, flicking him in the forehead. “You need to be the first one to say something, Yura, or else you’ll both mope around each other for the next year until we get tired of it.” She cocked her head to the side, curious. “Unless Yuuri was going to give good on his threats and actually move him and Viktor to Japan to train?”

“No,” Yuri mumbled, looking down at the patterns his skates had already carved into the ice. “He said that he wanted to stay here, in Russia.” He knew he was blushing. “That it felt like home.” 

Mila’s grin was wicked as she dragged him away from the walls and Yakov’s shouting. They really did have to skate and compulsory figures was first on the list. “I’m sure it’s not just because we have the most frigid winters in the world,” she teased. “Maybe it’s because of a certain kitty that’s gotten his attention?”

He moved back from her, concentrating on his free leg and keeping the movements smooth and steady, breathing evenly with each change. “He’s lived here for two years, off and on,” he muttered. “Maybe he’s realized how superior Russia is, even if he’s only lived in St. Petersburg.” 

“Yes, yes-- because Moscow will always be superior,” she rolled her eyes at him. “You’ve lived in St. Petersburg for more than half your life,” she pointed out. “Haven’t you made any attachments to it yet?” 

He didn’t mention that he was--but it was because of this rink and the skaters. Not just Yuuri, but Mila, who had teased him and treated him like a brother straight off, Georgi and Viktor and Yakov. They made him feel at home when he was most homesick; they took him out for dinner and silly adventures when he was younger; kept up the teasing and outings throughout the years. Even though he had focused everything on skating in his world to block out any loneliness, he knew he wouldn’t have fared so well without the reluctant family that had wormed his way into his life.  _ Even if it took until I was almost sixteen and finally got my head out of my ass _ , he admitted to himself. 

Otabek had started the process, reaching out to him on a level that had been staggering. His first actual friend; someone that hadn't seen him grow up, even if he had initially met Yuri as a kid. He had seen how strong Yuri wanted to be and encouraged him to break all the rules he could to achieve his dreams. Otabek was to him than Viktor was to Yuuri; someone he loved closer than family and one that he could trust fully, but nothing more than that. Even with all the whispering about the two of them and not helped with his first senior exhibition skate, Yuri didn't see him as a  _ lover.  _

Mila was still waiting for his answer and he finally shrugged. He could admit that much … “Yeah, guess I can see it as home, too.” He moved into the elements of his routine, skating past Mila so that he could give himself more space to perfect the elements of the skate. He wasn't as proficient as making his body create the music as Yuuri was, but he could at least show him that no matter what, he was choosing his path with all his convictions on display. 

~

It was all too soon that it was the start of Worlds; the practice sessions that Viktor put him through had seemed to fly by; even if they had been exhausting to adjust to the new elements. Yuri hadn't been joking when he talked about all of Viktor’s drive toward skating being rerouted to Yuuri’s routine. 

Still, he was satisfied with the way both programs looked; proud to show off his and Viktor’s hard work and confident that not only would he receive a medal, but get across the message he was trying to convey as well. 

He looked around for the Russian team, Yuri had said they had landed, but it was a longer flight for them and he wouldn't be surprised if they had all crashed to recover from the trip. Yuuri wanted to text again, but risk either being annoying or worse, wake Yuri up and have to deal with the fallout of a pissed off, jet-lagged Yuri. He could wait until later that day or even tomorrow; no matter what, they would see the other during warm ups and assignments and practicing the last, finicky bits of the routine on the ice they would be performing on.

Yuuri had already seen the layout, of course. There was something to be said for the home team advantage, even if Phichit on his own had arrived a day after Yuuri, the lone representative for Thailand and Otabek a day before the Russian team arrived. 

Yuuri stared down at his phone again, even if it hadn't signaled any messages and then finally shrugged and moved on from his spot of watching people move through the hotel. Reporters and competitors, fans and the off person who had the misfortune of booking the hotel during the crazy few days that surrounded the competition. 

His phone pinged with a group message--Phichit the instigator; inviting them all to a dinner before the craziness of tomorrow. Yuri was included in the message and even though he knew it was cowardly, he was glad that Phichit had reached out so he didn't have to. He was afraid that Yuri would be able to read his feelings between the lines of a simple text and wasn't sure he was ready. Even with how he felt and Viktor’s reassurances, he didn't want to lose his friendship. 

He should meet up with Phichit and some of the other skaters that he had made connections with, and Viktor would certainly like the chance, too. Another moment to breathe and reconnect with friends before they all fought to claim the top spot for themselves and their country.

He sent back a quick reply, noticing the other responses, watching for Yuri’s and shrugging a little to himself when nothing for forthcoming. It was still early and it wasn't as if they didn't have more chances. 

~

It was worth the lack of sleep to see the look of pleased surprise on Yuuri’s face as he slid into the seat next to him. He had planned to just rest and prepare himself for the short program the next day. It may have been his seconds Worlds, but it was no less nerve wracking than the first and as good as he knew he was, there were others that were just as good and ones he hadn't had a chance to skate against and assess their weaknesses. 

His heart beat a little faster and he covered up any sign of it by leaning on Yuuri, giving him a smirk. “So glad you decided to play translator,” he teased. It was a long running joke, depending on the country the competition was held in, one or two of the group would be designated as the translator to read menus or navigate around town, if they didn't want to be ripped off at the English speaking tourist areas. 

Yuuri made a face up at him, swatting at him as Yuri made himself more comfortable, earning speculative looks from the entire group, but he wasn’t about to move  _ now _ . It would only draw more attention to it and he didn’t need these idiots making a big deal out of it. “Come on, show your worth,” he egged him on, poking at the menu. “You couldn’t even pick a place that had the decency to put English on the menu?”

Yuuri rolled his eyes, but didn’t squirm out of his hold as he could have, making Yuri irrationally pleased. “If we went to one of the places closer to the rink or the hotel, sure-- but do you want ot pay the ten percent increase just to be able to read the menu?” 

Phichit was looking between the two of them, taking in their banter and how close they were together. “Wow, Yuuri,” he pulled out his phone, looking as he was prepared to take a picture of the two of them. “You two have something you want to share with the group?”

Yuri felt his face turning red and he pulled away from Yuuri, slumping into his chair and scowling towards Phichit. “Nothing that instagram cares about,” he huffed. “They’ve been seeing pictures of me and katsudon hanging out for ages.”

Phichit just gave him a knowing smirk and Yuri wanted to sink down in his chair. How many people saw right through him? He snuck a look at Yuuri, wondering if he was in the same boat, since he had spent all that time with Viktor and Phichit and the two of them were uncannily observant. Yuuri was blushing and staring down at the menu, but there was a hint of a smile on his face and Yuri felt another piece of hope lodge itself into his chest.  _ I might have a chance, after all… _

He pushed the thought from his mind as the rest of the table converged on Yuuri, teasing him into giving a rundown of the menu, asking for recommendations. Yuri got to cackle along with Yuuri as he treated them to that ‘unique’ way of calling over the staff for orders and he and Yuuri shared a grin when Leo hid his face for a moment at being so loud, with Guang-hong patting his back awkwardly. 

As loud and boisterous as their group got, it still felt like the calm before the storm-- not only the competition, but the unsaid words in the back of Yuri’s mind. Something was bound to spill over soon and he wasn’t sure what the catalyst would be. 

~

It was almost a relief to be placed in the last group of skaters; Yuuri was three skaters above him and all Yuuri would say about it was “thank god I’m not the first”. He had a thing about being the first skater; something that Yuri shared in a way. Something about trying your hardest and then seeing everyone come up behind you and trash your score until you were back on the bottom. It wasn’t likely that they’d be skating in the first round with their previous medals, but he had nightmares about being first and finishing last. 

_ Not like it hasn’t happened before…. _

Yuuri was leaning against the boards, watching the first group skate out; Minami was one of them and he cheered loudly, hoping his voice would reach Minami and give him encouragement. It still baffled him, just a little, that Minami had looked up to him for so long; it wasn’t until recently that he thought, privately, that he could be someone that people could be proud to cheer for. 

Still, he had learned his lesson and when Minami gave him a thumbs up and a wide, face-splitting grin at the sound of his ‘good luck’, Yuuri knew it was the right thing to do. 

“If you encourage the midget too much, he might actually beat you,” Yuri whispered in his ear and Yuuri whirled around and smacked at him. 

“It doesn’t hurt to wish him luck and for some reason, Minami really likes it when I do. He was over the moon at flying into Sapporo with me…” He knew his bewilderment came through in his expression and voice and Yuri rolled his eyes. 

“How would you have felt if Viktor shouted good luck to you when you were skating at your first major competition?” Yuri asked, poking him in the side. Both of them were still in warm up clothes; they weren’t skating for so long that it was pointless to get all in costume so early when they’d just be sitting around in it for hours. 

“Oh.” Yuuri’s eyes went round, all the explanations over the years finally caught up with him. He made a face at Yuri and then turned back to the rink, where Minami’s music was starting. He couldn’t help but think,  _ It would have been more shocking to have you say it _ , He didn’t want to miss any of the performance; even if he had seen it in practice, it was always something special to see the full thing. Minami had poured all his energy into it and Yuuri only hoped that he would be able to live up to the expectations of the skater in front of him--and moreso to the one standing beside him.

The ice was where everything could be laid out in clear, shining lines. He snuck another glance towards Yuri, entranced at the intense look that the other was giving the routine; focusing on the steps and the jumps. He moved away when Yuuri gave Minami a hug before going to the kiss and cry, but as Yuuri moved back to where Viktor was, he felt Yuri’s gaze follow  _ him _ for a short moment, before it flicked up to the boards where Minami’s score was totaled. Taking a deep breath, Yuuri filled himself with resolve. In just a few hours, he would have his chance to  _ keep _ that gaze on him. 

He would prove to Yuri that it would be worth it. He chatted with Viktor, mind elsewhere, cheering for a few more friends in the first two brackets before he had to leave, before his anxiety welled up and threaten to flatten him before his performance. He was afraid to nap; he was afraid to step out; there were too many things that could go wrong if he tried to do anything that was outside of staying in his room, staring at the ceiling, or sitting in the rink and getting tense and cramped. 

Viktor stopped him from pacing, keeping a hand on his shoulder and Yuri sandwiched himself on the other side, leaning against him like they had on the train and the familiarity of the two of them there relaxed him when he didn’t think it was possible. It brought back memories of that first year of training, when Yuri stuck around and made snide comments, but also stayed back to help him with a landing or a bite of food. When they were all so exhausted from travel and training regiments that they’d nap in between practice sessions, falling asleep to the sound of Yakov yelling at the other skaters. 

He had to have fallen asleep, because it seemed that it was only a few moments later that Viktor was shaking him awake. “Come on, sleepyheads,” he said, laughter bubbling up through his voice. “Time to wake up and get ready.”

Yuuri nodded, feeling refreshed and pulled away a little, only to realize that his hand had fallen against Yuri’s as he slept and their fingers were intertwined. Mercifully, Viktor said nothing about it, just ushered the two of them two their feet; Yuri towards Yakov and Yuuri to their room, so that they could prepare for their short program. 

~

Yuri knew that he should be warming up instead of watching Yuuri, but he couldn’t look away from the ice if he tried. Yuuri was the second skater in the last group and Yuri was the last, so he told himself that he had a moment to watch. He had a feeling that it would be important. Yuuri’s theme that year was ‘expectations’; both of what people saw of him and what he wanted for himself. 

His costume for his short program was fitted and a deep, deep blue, with silver constellations embroidered along the fabric. Each sweep of his arms seemed to create a story within the shapes on his costume and the music continued to story. Yuri knew the story; he and Yuuri had talked about it; two lovers separated by the Milky Way, only able to meet once a year. They didn’t have a story like that in Russia and Yuri had scoffed when he first heard the story. Waiting to be with someone only once a year was a waste; if it was him, he’d sneak away to be on the opposite bank after the birds had left and no one could have stopped him. 

Yuri was caught by the longing on Yuri’s face, the way he spun and held out his arms to the ceiling, reaching for something-- the slow movements of desire, of love. Through it all, Yuri could swear that Yuuri’s eyes fell on him each time, that he made his turns and sweeps to make sure that he was focused on Yuri. 

_ He can’t even know you’re watching, he’s blind as a bat out on the ice.  _ Still, his gaze was transfixed by Yuuri’s expression and the moment when the lovers met and embraced, Yuuri did something complicated with his routine that made it look like he was being embraced, just for a moment, before it vanished again. Almost all his jumps were pushed to the last bit of his routine, and each one seemed filled with joy and carried him higher across the ice until the lovers separated once more and his ending spin kept his head bowed to the ice.

Yuri’s throat went dry and his chest hurt and he knew that in this moment, he couldn’t deny that he was irrevocably in love with Yuuri Katsuki. 

~

He barely remembered his own skate; just the scores and placing just below Yuuri; both of them only a few points away from each other’s scores. He waited only long enough for the final results of the short program to be listed and he took in the top skaters at a glance. He wasn’t surprised that Otabek was in the top six and it absolutely thrilled him that JJ was further down on the list, with Leo and Guang-Hong, and Phichit outstripping him. Not that it mattered overall with the short program, but it helped to have a place that was higher to reach the best score, instead of down near the bottom where you would have to fight harder to win a coveted podium-- and  _ Olympic _ spot. 

He was exhausted after the skate and the practice and the long days that had led up to this; they would get their one day off before their free skate programs; in the interim, he’d be watching Mila trounce the competition. She was already in the top spot after her short program and he had confidence that she’d wipe the floor at the free skate. Before that, though, he needed to see Yuuri. He called himself a sap and weird and all sorts of other names, but a sort of resolve had taken itself up in him and it was a now or never moment. 

He pulled Yuuri away from a hugging group of friends and he ignored the knowing smiles that they all shared among themselves. Yuuri seemed content, if a little baffled to be dragged away, but Yuri pulled him along without any regard to his stumbling or protests.  _ I’m not going to do this in public _ . HIs ears burned at the thought; he wanted to be alone with Yuuri when he finally confessed. 

They had both carried their costumes with them, carrying put away in garment bags so that they could be sent away for dry cleaning, but not exposed to any unintentional damage. Yuri was fidgeting as he pushed Yuuri ahead of him into his room, barely waiting until the two of them had hung up the costumes before turning to him.

“Yuri?” Yuuri didn’t so much confused at his actions as waiting, watching him for an answer to the question he had to have been asking during his short program. His hair was pulled back in a small tail and the loose shirt and pants he wore made him look relaxed and comfortable and for the first time, less of a nervous wreck than Yuri felt.  _ It’s not fair.  _

“I… don’t interrupt me with this, katsudon, because I’m not even sure how to get this out,” Yuri swallowed and stumbled over his words, but he went to sit down next to Yuuri on the bed, reaching out for one of his hands. It made him feel grounded, like when they had fallen asleep against each other before their programs. 

Yuuri smiled and squeezed his hand and Yuri’s heartbeat slowed a little. It wasn’t that he wasn’t unsure of the reception, but spitting out the words when he had never been good at expressing the softer side of things was hard. His first meeting with Yuuri was meant to encourage him and instead had nearly kicked a door off its hinges and yelled at him instead. 

“I-- that skate,” he went for the roundabout way instead. “What did it mean?” he asked, staring directly at Yuuri, pushing it on him. It was unfair of him, but it was worth it to see the blush streak up Yuuri’s cheeks and for him to unconsciously pull Yuri’s hand closer. 

“What happened to not interrupting you?” Yuuri teased and Yuri wrinkled his nose. “Just answer the question and  _ then _ you can cork it,” he ordered. “I … I need to know your answer, first.” His voice broke along the edges, showing his vulnerability. 

Yuuri bit at his lip, taking a deep breath. “It was for you,” he said after the silence stretched out and Yuri was certain that Yuuri wasn’t ever going to answer and he would have to end up being the first to say it. “I wanted you to see… see that I….” Yuuri squeezed his hand tighter. “I want to do my best for you and wanted to show you how I felt.” He wiped at his watering eyes. “How can always drive Yakov and Viktor nuts, teasing Mila and Georgi… sneaking sweets when no one’s looking.” His words stuttered and faltered and he pulled Yuri’s hand to his chest, holding onto it tightly. 

“I saw you dancing as if you were trying to recreate that damn story,” Yuri laughed, his breath hitching painfully in his chest. “You were staring at me the whole time….” he had to tease, just a little. “You only saw me because I was the tallest person there, huh?”

“That’s right,” Yuuri laughed. “I aimed for the blonde-haired beanpole blur.” He watched Yuri intently and there was no way that Yuri could tear his gaze away. “Yuri...I …” He laughed again. “I can’t believe I’m going to be the first one to say it, even when you’re the one that dragged me up to  _ your _ room.”

Yuri stroked the back of Yuuri’s hand, growing solemn again. “Okay, now be quiet,” He huffed softly. “I think I can get this out now.” It was that need to one up and in the back of his mind, he was certain Yuuri goaded him on purpose. “I…”  _ I like you. A lot. I have for awhile and you've been teasing me, I know it.  _ “I want to kiss you.”  __

Yuuri blinked, but now that the words -- not the ones he wanted to say -- were out, Yuri rushed through the rest. “I’ve been wanting to kiss you for awhile. I wanted to… when you were standing in front of that ridiculous poster, trying to hide it. When you stuffed your weird flower food in my face.” He covered his face with his hands, breathing deeply. “Can I?” he asked, words muffled behind his hands. 

He peeked between his fingers to see Yuuri’s response and was rewarded by his shy smile and a nod, pulling Yuri close to him. “Yeah--I’ve been wanting this, too.” 

He intertwined their fingers again, using his free hand to cup the side of Yuris’ face and Yuri let his eyes shut as Yuuri leaned closer and part of his brain was overheating in how weird and surreal and different this was. The other part gave a quiet sigh of relief as Yuuri leaned up and pressed his lips to his in a soft, gentle kiss. 

They both pulled away after a moment and Yuuri’s lips turned up in a teasing grin, but he still hadn’t let go of Yuri’s hands. Even though his cheeks were pink and his eyes overbright, he still had the audacity to tease Yuri. “Still having me take the lead. When are you going to one-up me in this, Yura?”

Yuri’s eyes widened at that unexpected confidence and  _ sass _ , using their joined hands to pull Yuuri flush against him. “Just you wait, Yuuri,” he promised. Now that he knew his feelings were reciprocated, he wasn’t going to hold back. 

~

The free skate after was so close to being a draw that it was like the Grand Prix all over again, but this time Yuuri had managed to eek out a gold, but it was still beating out not just Yuri, but the top skaters in the world and breaking a new world record on top of it.

“Yeah, if I had the stamina of an endless battery, I’d have gotten gold instead of you,” Yuri murmured, but he was genuinely proud of Yuuri, but he vowed to figure out his secret and managed to sneak in not one but  _ two _ quad flips and have them be part of combination. At this rate, he’d have to pull of a quad axel, but there was a better chance of Viktor coming back to competitive skating than any of of them landing that impossible move. 

Yuuri snickered and then tried to keep his face straight as they brought out the bouquets for the winners; he was surrounded by two of them people he cared about the most. Phichit was on one side and was beaming at winning bronze and  _ his _ country’s shot at the Olympics. He was also giving Yuri and him sly looks as they stood next to each other and Yuuri waited the inevitable storm of questions from him. Yuri was on the other side and his fingers twitched to the side, as if wanting to hold Yuuri’s hand _ now, _ to show off that he had gotten the elusive, desirable Yuuri Katsuki. 

Yuri looked down at his bouquet automatically, noticing a familiar scent that tickled at the edge of his memory. He wasn’t expecting the delicate white and pink flowers nestled among the traditional ones and he only had a moment to give Yuuri an astonished look before the rest of the ceremony took place. He didn’t know how the other had managed to pull something like that off, but it was both sappy and touching and Yuri was going to get him mercilessly for such a move. 

_ You fucking nerd _ , he thought, holding the flowers and the medal and beaming out at the cameras. Next year, he’d knock Yuuri off the top and get the gold, but for now, for this moment-- he didn’t mind the silver. He was standing right where he was meant to be. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And so ends this fic! This chapter got to be a whee bit longer than the others, but that's totally cool, right? XD If anyone wants a part two, I'm willing to roll with it, or even scenes or extra bits in this universe. ^^ I'm really glad of all of those that stuck with me for this fic.

**Author's Note:**

> So a gift for the lovely ladies that work on Wildflowers; a test to see if I can actually do this~ I do love the idea of older Yuri, maturing and learning and still hopefully being himself. The ages are going to be a little fudged in this fic; Yuuri is a bit younger than he'd be at this point in time. Viktor is still Yuuri's coach and close friend, but that's not what I'm focusing on in this fic. 
> 
> I hope you all enjoy~~


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